The New Mand'alor
by Specter7
Summary: Finally possessing the Darksaber, Sabine and Ezra travel across the galaxy to recruit the Mandalorians—including the notorious Death Watch. Embroiled in her family's quest for power, Sabine fights for the title of Mand'alor. Yet leading her people comes at a price and Sabine faces problems that no one in the Star Wars universe has ever had to face before…
1. Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

**Hey guys! Specter7 here with my all new, super amazing, awe-inspiring fanfic; The New Mand'alor. This story takes places right after "Trials of the Darksaber." So, forget anything you learned in "Legacy of Mandalore" and on up, because we are starting with a clean slate!**

 **Also, this fanfic is pretty much totally Ezra-Sabine centered. There IS Sabezra in this story-just not excessively. I've focused more on their relationship rather than their *supposed* romance.**

 **Of course, I don't own Lucasfilm and all that jazz. And props to marilyne06art, which is who I got the cover from. Anyways, read and...**

 **May the _manda_ be with you. **

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 1 : The Journey Begins

* * *

"…We think too often in terms of dualism: Jedi or Sith, Light or Dark, Right or Wrong. But there are _three_ sides to this blade, not two, opposed and similar at the same time.

"The third edge is the Mandalorian."

- _Vergere_

* * *

Sabine Wren stuffed random pieces of clothing into a large bag as she packed for the long journey ahead. It had been a few days since Kanan had trained her to use the Darksaber and Sabine had overcome her past. Those training days had been emotionally trying on the young Mandalorian and she was still recovering from everything she had told Kanan and Ezra and Rau. Unfortunately, it had been necessary for Sabine to go through that. To have faced her past once again. For years, she had ignored it. She had buried it somewhere deep, deep inside her where no one could see it.

But her past was still there.

It had followed her around like lovesick Loth-cat, nipping at her heels and reminding her of what she had done, and that the scars it gave her were still painful.

And after so long of wanting to forget what she had happened, Sabine had finally brought it to light. She had finally confessed to Kanan, Ezra, and Rau what she had done. And what her family did to her. Sabine had confessed… just how much it hurt her to go through what she did. But Sabine hadn't really been fighting Kanan when she was training with the Darksaber.

She had been fighting herself.

She had had to resurface all of those old feelings and grudges to be able to truly hold the Darksaber for what it was; the legacy of Mandalore. Sabine had had to work through all of that pain, misery, suffering, and just plain hurt to finally accept her role. And she did. She did now. Sabine had come to terms with what had happened and she was ready to lead her people.

Well… almost.

Suddenly, there was an abrupt but quiet knock on the door. "Sabine," a gentle voice said softly. "It's Hera."

"Come in," Sabine called, her back to the door and continued packing.

The green-skinned Twi'lek stepped into the room and came and sat by Sabine, crossing her legs on the floor. "How're you holding up?" Hera asked quietly.

 _Oh, I'm fine,_ Sabine thought sarcastically. _Just packing up to go back to the old fam. It's not like they want to kill me or anything. It's not like my brother shot me last time we talked. Or like my father disowned me. Or my mother said she didn't love me. It's not like they all abandoned me or anything and now every Mandalorian hates me._

Sabine fought to not clench her jaw as she thought of all the things she wanted to tell Hera. "As well as can be expected," was all she said, breathing in a shaky breath. The Mandalorian bit her lip and stayed silent, still sorting through her clothes.

"I know that look," Hera said suspiciously. "What's wrong, Sabine?"

"They hate me!" the teen burst, throwing her hands in the air and standing up. "My family, the rest of Death Watch, everyone! Anyone who's heard the name, 'Sabine Wren' was raised to hate it."

" _Sabine,_ " Hera insisted, standing up and putting a hand on her shoulder. "It doesn't matter what they think. All it means is that you'll have to work harder to prove them wrong."

Sabine hesitated, looking into the Twi'lek's sea green eyes. Sabine was conflicted, with a number of emotions turning inside of her about the incoming journey. She knew she was going back to Mandalore. She _had_ to. She was just nervous about how her family and Death Watch would react.

Sabine had left to save her people… And now, she was coming back for that very same reason.

It was time for Sabine to fix her mistakes, no matter how difficult they were.

 _They were wrong about me,_ Sabine thought determinedly. _I'm not a traitor. I saved them before and I'll save them again._

"I'll prove them wrong," the young Mandalorian said aloud, steeling her nerves. "I'll show them what I did for the Wrens. What I did for all of Mandalore."

She watched Hera smile and let go of her shoulders. "I know you will," Hera said with quiet pride.

The two settled back onto the floor and the green-skinned Twi'lek helped Sabine pack.

"Are you ready, though?" Hera asked, gathering stacks of flimsiplast for Sabine to draw on.

"Not really," Sabine admitted, taking the flimsi from Hera and putting it into a folder. "But it doesn't matter, I guess."

"Recruiting Mandalorians for the Rebellion is no easy task," Hera agreed, then seemed to hesitate."…And I'm sorry I put you up to it."

Heh. Sorry. Oh, how Sabine wished she could've heard those words earlier… Preferably before she had poured her heart out to Kanan, Ezra, and Rau.

Sabine sighed. _Too late now._ "Don't be sorry, Hera," she said. I know this is important to the attack on Lothal's factories and I'll do anything to grow the Rebellion."

Sabine meant what she said, but this was really stretching what she would do for the Rebellion. Her first duty was to her true family with Hera and Ezra and the rest. And tied in second place was between her duty to Mandalore and her duty to the Rebels.

Sabine was raised to believe Mandalore _always_ came first, over blood, over friends and over any previous ties. There would always be a part of her that was loyal to her homeworld and its culture, but was the Rebellion more important?

Sabine mentally shook her head. She had been debating these thoughts for years now, and she desperately hoped the _manda_ wasn't looking down on her at the moment, observing these speculations.

"Good," Hera said, interrupting her thoughts. "And I have faith in you convincing the Mandalorians to fight against the Empire."

Sabine glanced her mentor. Hera was nice enough and Sabine knew she cared about her… but Hera simply didn't get Mandalorian culture. Sabine couldn't just _convince_ the Mandalorians. Even if they accepted her as the new Mand'alor, the leader of her people, there would be many who would challenge her rule. As the Mand'alor, it would be all other Mandalorians' duty to follow her. They would _have_ to. It was one of the rules in the _Resol'nare,_ the code of law all Mandalorians lived by.

So, Sabine couldn't just convince her people to follow her… she would have to prove her worth. Her mettle. Her valor.

She would have to prove once and for all, with Darksaber in hand, that Sabine Wren was the new Mand'alor.

* * *

Sabine grabbed her bag and slung the strap across her chest. She had packed a single change of clothes—she never wore much else besides her armor—and pajamas. Sabine had also stuffed plenty of flimsi to sketch on in her spare time, several extra capsules of paint to tag on public property later, and a few power cells. But she hadn't forgotten her explosives, as now, her belt was heavy and full of charges.

As she exited her room, she grabbed another small bag that contained stray pieces of armor, like the gauntlets she used to wear (now replaced with the vambraces Rau gave her), her jetpack, plackart, codpiece, a pair of her old gloves, and her helmet. Sabine hadn't worn all her armor in years and she didn't plan to anytime soon.

Sabine stood at the front of her room as the automatic door slid open. She took a deep breath and looked one last time over her shoulder. Her room was covered floor to ceiling with spray paintings of all kinds, from cartoony murals to random tags. All of those crazy colors told Sabine's story. It was her way to express herself and her life.

Sabine looked up at the ceiling. Starting from the top bunk bed were stands of orange paint that looked like flames as they fanned out to cover the top half of the room. Further up, in the midst of the orange inferno was a mural of an animated version of Kanan, Hera, Zeb, Ezra, Chopper, and herself, all gathered together like they were taking a family holopic. And then, right above that, the orange "flames" seemed to part to reveal the purple outline of a Starbird, a legendary Phoenix-like creature.

Sabine silently said her good-byes to the art and walked out the room, hoping and praying that the _manda_ would have mercy on her and let her make it back from the perilous journey alive.

She walked down the _Ghost's_ hallway, glancing at Ezra's and Zeb's room. The door was open and she could hear the Lasat giving Ez the traditional good-bye ritual, Zeb-style.

Which was basically Zeb trying to playfully strangle Ezra and Ezra trying to sucker punch the Lasat in the gut.

Sabine rolled her eyes and shifted the heavy bag slung across her chest. She walked down the hallway and turned the corner, nearly plowing into the blue-painted chest plate of Fenn Rau.

Sabine glanced up at him. "Sorry," she mumbled and tried to move past him but Rau grabbed her arm.

"Let me come with you," he insisted. "I could offer my assistance when you meet your mother."

Sabine stiffened and looked away. "We're not going to Krownest," she muttered. "I've already set the _Phantom II's_ course for Mandalore."

Sabine tried to push past him but Rau blocked her path. " _Mandalore?_ " he exclaimed in his deep, growling voice. "What could you possibly want to do there—"

"I'm going to Death Watch."

Rau's face was priceless. He froze, his mouth agape, and his icy blue eyes staring at her. Rau finally contained himself. "Death Watch?" he mused.

Sabine nodded. "Their warriors are unmatched and they'll be useful in the final attack on Lothal's factories," Sabine said, glancing at the man and finally slipping past him.

Rau didn't seem very impressed. "And what of your parents? Of Clan Wren? I hope you're being strategic in all this."

Sabine stopped cold and her hands clenched into fists at the sound of her clan's name. "I'm not going back to my mother," she said finally, her back to Rau.

"My mother's coming to me."

* * *

Sabine stood on the _Ghost's_ ramp, Chopper trailing behind her. She had explained briefly to Rau her plan for herding her mother to come to Sabine on Mandalore. If Sabine grew a big enough reputation with the Death Watch, her mother would get interested, hearing rumors of the new Mand'alor that was supposedly her own daughter. Sabine knew her mother. She was too enthralled in Mandalore's politics _not_ to come.

Sabine looked at the _Phantom II_ docked just outside on Atollon's sandy ground. That was the ship that would take them to Mandalore and to the dreaded Death Watch.

She glanced up at the gorgeous sunset with several mixed emotions. She couldn't help but realize ominously that the last time there had been a sunset this spectacular was when Kanan, Ezra and Ahsoka had left for Malachor.

 _"We'll see each other again. I promise."_

Kanan's empty words rang in Sabine's ears. She had overheard the Jedi say the exact phrase to Hera almost a year ago ago. Little had Kanan known that he would soon be blinded, never able to fulfill his promise.

Ezra suddenly ran up beside her, interrupting her thoughts, and laughing as he heard Zeb growl from back inside the _Ghost._

"I'll get you for that!" the Lasat roared.

Ezra just laughed again and Sabine fought to not roll her eyes a second time. "You ready to go?" she asked him.

"Yup," the Padawan answered. "You?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"I know the feeling."

The two looked at each other and Sabine's amber eyes scanned his features. Ezra's jet-black hair was slowly starting to grow out again from when he lopped it all off. Gone was the shaggy-headed boy whose awkward attempts to flirt with her only earned him sarcastic rebuttals. Now, in his place was a tall, strong young man, a seventeen year old, with defined muscles and confident stature.

Ezra gave her his classic lopsided grin and Sabine started to smile. Yet still, after everything that had happened… some things never changed.

The two stepped off the _Ghost's_ ramp in unison and walked to the _Phantom II._

"I can take that for you," Ezra said before they reached the ship, gesturing to her luggage.

Sabine stiffened. "I'm capable of carrying my own bags, thanks," she said, unmeaningly turning on the sass. _Does he seriously think I can't take care of myself?_ Sabine thought privately, offended.

Ezra was still smiling. "I know," he said simply.

Sabine looked at him and the tan-colored, light-weighted backpack he had on his shoulders. Oh. He was just being a gentleman. …Maybe she had read the situation wrong.

Sabine hesitantly put her small bag into Ezra's outstretched hand and took the larger one off her chest, giving it to him as well.

"Thanks, Ez!" Sabine called after him as the teen took her bags inside the _Phantom II_.

She turned to see the rest of her family waiting just outside the _Ghost_. But oddly, Kanan didn't have any bags. Didn't he say he would be coming with them?

Sabine looked into the Jedi's blind, cloudy eyes. …Oh. She knew why he decided against it.

Where Sabine and Ezra and Chopper were going was no place for a Jedi. The Mandalorians' nemeses were the Jedi. And Ezra could hide the fact that he was Force-sensitive, however, a blinded Kanan could not.

Sabine walked over to Kanan, Hera, Rau and Zeb. All four looked at her and Sabine didn't know what to say.

Finally, Zeb broke the silence. "Well, this seems familiar," he rumbled quietly. "Saying our good-byes, just like Malachor."

"But this time," Sabine promised, "It won't be the same outcome. I _will_ succeed. I'll lead my people."

"We know you will," Hera said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And we trust you."

Sabine swelled with pride. Her family had put their trust in her. Now it was time to convince her blood family to do the same.

"I have faith in you, Sabine Wren," Fenn Rau spoke up. "There is no one better to lead our people than you."

She frowned, wanting to disagree with him. She already thought she wasn't a good leader, but the best? Rau must be _way_ off. She was just doing this because she had to. "Sabine," Kanan said suddenly.

She paused and looked up at the man gravely.

"The path you walk won't be easy," Kanan advised solemnly. "It will be hard and challenging, but you _must_ stay true to who you are. Do you understand?"

Sabine pursed her lips before replying, "I do."

"Right now, we're with you," Kanan continued. "But there will come a time when you will have to walk your journey alone. And when that time comes, remember one thing."

Sabine leaned forward, anticipating what he was about to say.

"Trust in the Force."

Sabine sighed. This again. "I _told_ you Kanan, that Jedi stuff isn't for everyone! Leave the trusting-in-the-Force nonsense to Ezra. Give me a good old blaster and paint bomb any day." Sabine turned to leave when Kanan gently grabbed her arm.

"The Force resides in all living things," he said sternly. "In me, _and_ in you. But you have to be _open_ to it."

Sabine gritted her teeth. Did Kanan _seriously_ have to keep teaching her this? She wasn't a Jedi!

"One day," Kanan said gravely, "Your blasters _will_ fail you. You _will_ run out of charges. And your own skills will _not_ be up to the task."

Sabine stared at him, her eyes wide and bumps began to form on her arms. The way Kanan said it… it was like he was declaring a prophecy on something soon to happen to her…

"And when that day comes," Kanan continued solemnly, "The Force will be the only thing able to spare you from the inevitable."

Sabine narrowed her eyes. She knew Kanan was serious and believed every word he spoke, but… it was so far-fetched! Sabine had _never_ in her _life_ ever felt anything mystical or magical like Kanan's and Ezra's Force. How could she trust in the Force when she'd never even sensed in?

"Close your eyes, Sabine," Kanan breathed, doing what he just commanded. " _Feel_ it. Feel the Force. It's always been there… It will guide you."

Chill bumps continued to form along her skin as she watched Kanan's relaxed face inhale and exhale slowly and evenly. Sabine bit her lip. Who did Kanan think she was? A Jedi? She couldn't feel the Force! She wasn't born with oh-so-mighty powers like Ezra! But Kanan was serious about the whole 'close your eyes and feel it' stuff so Sabine glanced up at him. "I'll… I'll try," Sabine mumbled.

"Do or do not. There is no try," Kanan corrected. "Now, go. Adventure awaits, Sabine."

The Mandalorian hesitated and gave a slight bow to the blind Jedi.

"I'll recruit the clans," she promised. "… And I'll make you proud."

She watched as Kanan gave the slightest of smiles. "You already have."

Sabine took a deep breath and turned, leaving Hera, Kanan, Rau and Zeb as she walked onto the _Phantom II_. Ezra was sitting at the controls, prepping for liftoff.

"Hey," the black-haired boy greeted. He glanced over Sabine's shoulder. "Where's Kanan?"

"Not coming," Sabine answered tersely, walking closer to the pilot's seat.

Ezra looked confused. "Why?"

"Mandos and Jedi don't mix," Sabine explained. "They're the Mandalorians' number one enemy. We'd have a tough time convincing Death Watch that Kanan wasn't a Jedi, him being blind and all."

Ezra seemed to mull her words over and he finally nodded. "Makes sense, I guess." The Padawan stood from the pilot's seat, offering Sabine the controls.

She settled into it, grabbing the steering yoke and glancing at Ezra who sat in the co-pilot's seat.

"You ready?" she asked.

Ezra gave her a lopsided grin. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Sabine looked ahead at Atollon's gorgeous sunset, the rays of light fading, casting strands of color all across the night sky.

"I know the feeling," she murmured, repeating Ezra's earlier words. Sabine looked once more over her shoulder at Kanan and the others and then closed the hatch.

"Adventure awaits," Sabine breathed, easing the acceleration throttle forward.

And so the journey began.

 **That's all folks! But don't worry, I'll keep on writing. I've already done the first four chaps and I'm just perfecting them before I post. Stay hungry for the story! And little sneak peek on the next chapter— the title is: "Clan Caladon."**

 **Follow/Fav and Review!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	2. Chapter 2: Clan Caladon

**'Sup, Specter7 here. This here chapter is dedicated to Mandalore the Freedom, who has helped me with all things Mandalorian :) thanks pal. I also want to publicly thank StormyOceans for being the virtual shoulder I can cry on when discussing Star Wars Rebels :P thanks friend!**

 **To everyone else who is reading this, thanks for sticking it out till chapter two! Read and enjoy :)**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 2: Clan Caladon

* * *

"A leader of Mandalorians is a curious person. He takes command with reluctance, rules with no power, and dies the most beloved soldier of all his companions."

 _-Fenn Shysa_

* * *

"So, walk me through this whole Mandalorian thing one more time."

Sabine gave an aggravated sigh at Ezra's cluelessness to her culture. "Okay, listen up," she said. "The Mandalorians are warriors. Right?"

"Right," Ezra confirmed, following along.

"And all warriors are bound to a code, right?"

"Right."

"Well, our code of honor is the _Resol'nare._ It has six rules all Mandalorians have to follow or they're considered worse than dead—their considered soulless."

"And that's bad," Ezra stated.

"Very bad," Sabine reiterated, nodding. "The worse fate a Mandalorian could wish on another."

"Got it."

"And so," Sabine continued, "one of the six rules is when called upon by the Mand'alor, all Mandalorians _must_ rally to their cause."

She watched as Ezra slowly frowned. "And what's the Mand'alor again? Isn't that your homeworld?"

 _Manda_ help her, she wanted strangle Ezra right now.

"No…" Sabine said evenly with the little patience she had left. " _Mandalore_ is a planet. _The_ Mand'alor is the _leader_ of the people _on_ Mandalore."

"Oh," Ezra said finally and his eyes seemed to clear. "Okay. So being Mand'alor is like being leader of your people."

"Exactly," Sabine sighed. Finally, he was getting this.

She watched as Ezra leaned back in his seat and propped up his legs. "So who's the Mand'alor now?"

Sabine looked out at the brilliant blue wormhole as they traveled through hyperspace, sighing.

Chopper rolled in between them and beeped out a series of binary words.

"Yeah," Sabine agreed with the astromech. "There isn't a Mand'alor right now and there hasn't been since Pre Vizsla took over."

Chopper beeped again and Sabine arched an eyebrow. "Gar Saxon doesn't count," she objected. "He's the viceroy of Mandalore—not the sole ruler. Put into office by the Empire, too."

She glanced at Ezra, watching the teen nod slowly. Sabine hesitantly took the Darksaber off the back of her belt and held it in her hand, testing its weight.

For something so small, its worth was close to immeasurable. The blade had been passed down from generation to generation of House Vizsla members. That was, until Darth Maul won the Darksaber in combat and used it to turn the Mandalorians against each other, throwing Mandalore into a state of civil war.

People who had once been friends, comrades in arms, were suddenly thrust against the other. It had been brother against brother, father against child and wife against husband when Maul tried to claim himself Mand'alor by force. War broke out and while some considered him to have been the Mand'alor… others, like Sabine, thought he was a disgrace to their heritage and had never been the Mand'alor in the first place.

But now, _she_ had the Darksaber. _She_ had the chance to be the new Mand'alor. Yet it all depended on whether or not the Clans accepted her and accepted giving her the title. Being Mand'alor required the person to be a gifted warrior, respected by many, and have one heck of a reputation—something Sabine intended to build up in Death Watch.

 _I'll unite the clans,_ Sabine thought determinedly. _They'll rally to my cause. They_ have _to._

"The only question is who's in charge of Death Watch now," she muttered to herself.

"What?" Ezra asked suddenly and Sabine jerked up.

"I, uh… just talking to myself," she said.

Sabine watched as Ezra leaned back against his chair, as if not realizing the weight of what she murmured.

"What'd you say?" the teen asked her leisurely. "'Death Watch?' I think Kanan mentioned that a few times in Jedi training."

Sabine bit her lip. "Death Watch was a group of rebels back in the Clone Wars. They wanted Mandalore to go back to its warrior ways and were very… _aggressive_ about it."

"Hmm," Ezra nodded, closing his eyes. "That does sound like you."

Sabine smirked at his cheeky comment that was in some way, almost a compliment. But for a group as notorious as the Death Watch, Sabine wanted to be nothing like them. However, she didn't know who was in charge of the rebel group these days. Maybe they would be less violent now than how her mother described it.

Sabine knew she was teetering on a very dangerous, very thin line by going to Death Watch. They were a hated group of infamous rebels, abhorred by all True Mandalorians. Others might hate Sabine as well, for aligned herself with them. But this was a new age. The Clone Wars had been over two decades ago, and the Mandalorian Civil War, six. It was time for people to simply let some things go and 'bury the vibro-knife' as they say.

Sabine mentally shook away the thoughts. "A-Anyway," she said, "The Death Watch fight the Empire now for the freedom of Mandalore—"

"—So you're going to try to convince them to be our ally," Ezra finished. "And fight the Empire in the attack on Lothal's factories."

"Exactly," Sabine confirmed. But that wasn't the only reason she had chosen to go to Death Watch first to recruit Mandalorians. The real reason was so she could build up a reputation with them and maybe even proclaim herself Mand'alor. With a group like the Death Watch, she had a better chance of gaining supporters than if she went anywhere else.

Chopper suddenly let off a series of beeps and Sabine hurriedly pressed a few buttons on the console and gently pulled the yoke back.

"Coming out of hyperspace," she announced as the blinding blue tunnel faded and the stars became dots of twinkling light.

The _Phantom II_ slowed and Sabine looked out the window at the gigantic orb in front of them. The planet was downright gorgeous, covered in yellow and white, with the occasional break of continents to reveal water. Its surface was dotted with fluffy, sweeping clouds and Sabine couldn't help but think of its beauty.

 _Mandalore_.

Sabine smiled to herself as her heart suddenly ached. _Finally,_ she reflected. _So,_ now _I get homesick._

"Wow," Ezra breathed. "This is it, huh?'

She took in a shaky breath. "Welcome home, I guess," Sabine said uncertainly and eased the yoke forward.

 _No turning back now,_ she thought to herself.

…..

Sabine had tracked the Death Watch down to a remote part of Mandalore, surrounded by huge, ominous, craggy-topped mountains. She craned her neck to see makeshift tents in the snowy valley below them as Sabine lowered the _Phantom II_ down. She was unsurprised to find Mandalorians already gathered, waiting for the newcomers.

"Did you tell them we were coming?" Ezra asked nervously.

"I told them I was a Mandalorian and gave them the code phrase for entry," Sabine answered, inhaling a shaky breath.

"But…" Ezra said suspiciously.

She shot him a glare. " _But_ I didn't tell them I was a Wren. They probably would've shot us down."

Sabine looked down at her hands, rubbing them nervously against her legs.

Ezra frowned. " _Shoot us down?_ Why?"

She closed her eyes, wincing at a painful memory. Even after Sabine had ran away to save her people, she was _still_ enslaving them.

In an incident with Clan Kryze when she was fifteen, Sabine had unknowingly led the Empire right to the surviving Mandalorian clan. As a result, nearly all the people had been wiped out. Men, women and children all fell to stormtrooper fire.

And Sabine had watched it happen.

Ketsu was there too, but she hadn't cared worth bantha fodder and had simply ran away from the scene. Sabine had tried to help the Mandalorians, really, she had. But the leader of Clan Kryze, some man named Korkie, had put the traitor's brand to her name and alerted the rest of the clans of her "treachery."

Sabine Wren wasn't welcomed anywhere, not even on all of Mandalore. So how Death Watch would react to her name… Well, it probably wouldn't be pretty.

"Sabine, why?" Ezra repeated.

She mentally shook herself out of her thoughts and glanced at the teen. His brilliant, electric blue eyes seemed mildly interested.

"Like you said before," Sabine murmured. "Mandalorians are crazy."

She glanced at Ezra and spun around on her heel, grabbing her helmet from out her bag and promptly sliding it onto her head.

Sabine was nervous as she stood before the _Phantom II_ 's entrance.

"Let's do this," Ezra said determinedly, cracking his knuckles.

"Whoah, there," Sabine reigned in. "Remember Mandos hate Jedi?"

Ezra frowned. "Oh, yeah."

"…Give your lightsaber to Chop," she advised. "He has a secret compartment he can stash it in 'till the coast is clear."

Ezra looked surprised as he turned to the rusty orange astromech droid. "Really?" he asked him.

Chopper let off a serious of prideful beeps as Ezra handed him the lightsaber handle.

Sabine gave a slight, disbelieving laugh at Chop's binary words. "Yeah, right," she huffed. "You're about as profound as a meek nerf, Chop."

"Just minus the meek," Ezra added and the two laughed as the droid cursed at them in several different languages.

"You're lucky Hera's not here to wash out your circuits," Sabine scolded.

Chopper's probably inappropriate response was cut off by the sound of someone pounding on the _Phantom II_ 's hull.

" _Open up!_ " someone growled from the outside.

Sabine grew somber as she glanced at the _Phantom II's_ hatch. _I can't do this,_ she thought suddenly. _I don't even_ know _which clan is leading Death Watch anymore. They'd all probably kill me on sight._

She took the Darksaber off the back of her belt and looked regretfully down at it. Why had she found it? Kanan had said he didn't believe it was a coincidence the ancient black sword had came into _her_ possession. But why _her?_ It wasn't like Sabine was the last member of House Vizsla. There were others who could lead in her place.

Sabine gripped the Darksaber tight in her hands. She couldn't do this! She couldn't rally the Mandalorians! Why would they even follow her after everything she did? After everything she was _responsible_ of?

"Sabine," Ezra said, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes that were usually twinkling with laughter were now serious. "You can do it…

"I trust you."

With those three words, Sabine immediately squared her shoulders, put the Darksaber on the back of her belt, and slammed a fist down on the button next to the hatch. With a few puffs of air and a squeal of rusty joints, the ramp lowered and Sabine, Ezra and Chopper went out to meet the Mandalorians.

As she saw the familiar T-shaped visors, WESTAR blasters, and battered, weathered helmets, Sabine instantly felt a wave of longing overtake her.

She was finally home.

Ezra and Chopper trailed behind her as Sabine walked confidently out among the warriors. That was, until she realized just who's banner was waving right under the Death Watch's.

"Karabast," she breathed from underneath her helmet.

"What? Ezra asked quietly.

Sabine couldn't keep her eyes off of the dark green flag that had the signature small V above a larger, arced V.

"I should've known they'd be running the Death Watch," she murmured.

" _Who?_ " Ezra pressed as Sabine looked around, just now realizing the double V logo on nearly every Death Watch member's helmet. And not only that, but the tell-tale twin stripes on their shoulder armor. Oh, she should've seen it!

" _Who's_ running Death Watch?" Ezra pressed again.

Sabine swallowed before she answered back. This was about to get a lot harder than they once thought.

"Clan Caladon."

 **You people interested yet? Stay tuned for the next chapter :) And if you're wondering what on earth Clan Caladon is… great! I've got you hooked. Remember, all good things come to those who wait and it will be revealed very soon.**

 **BTW, Clan Caladon is pronounced Clan Cal-uh-DONUT (just without the UT :) Follow/Fav and Review!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	3. Chapter 3: Solving Problems

**Hello again, Specter7 here. I'm happy for all the positive reviews I'm getting :) Thanks guys!**

 **I put a lot of work into this chapter, combing it for flaws and making it better and better. I officially liked the outcome and gave it my unofficial stamp of approval! Read and...**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 3: Solving Problems

* * *

"As much as I may hate to admit it, the Death Watch is as much a part of our culture as we _Mando'ade_ ourselves. We're flip sides of the same coin, twin aspects of the same existence. That's why we can't get rid of them: no matter how many times we beat them back or they beat us away, we'll always be fighting each other. Honestly, I'm just surprised it took them this long to get organized."

 _–Lilith Allia_

* * *

Sabine looked around wildly, glad her helmet was hiding her face so that the stern, hearts-of-steel Mandalorians couldn't see her silently panicking.

 _Clan Caladon?_ she exclaimed mentally. _I'm never leaving this place alive!_

"Calm down," Ezra muttered discretely to her as the Mandalorians started to form a circle around them.

"I _am_ calm!" she hissed back. "You have no idea what we just got ourselves into!"

Clan Caladon was considered a 'pure blood' among Mandalorians, rivaled only by Clan Vizsla. The clan had many, many members and produced the best warriors, even by Mandalorian standards. They were known for their aggressiveness and elite skills in battle, and every Mandalorian strove to be like the Caladons, who were the ultimate warriors. So the fact that Clan Caladon was running the Death Watch now…

Sabine was mentally kicking herself. _I should have known the Caladons would be making a power grab,_ she thought, her jaw clenched with the sudden truth. Sabine was lucky if they didn't give her an immediate execution on the spot for being a traitor.

Sabine suddenly whirled around to see someone pushing the Mandos aside. He was obviously a person that was of some leadership in Death Watch, due to the jet-black, twin stripes painted across his dark green chest plate and his cocky, confident stance.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't order my men to gun you down and carry your bodies out," the Mandalorian growled with a Core world accent from underneath his weathered, green and gray helmet.

Sabine squared her shoulders, her panic dying. She couldn't show any fear—not that she was really even afraid. Death Watch wouldn't slaughter her just yet.

"I need to meet with your leader," Sabine announced to the man in front of her and the other Mandalorians glanced at each other.

She could just see Ezra frown out of the corner of her eye. "He's not the leader?" Ezra breathed, nearly inaudible.

Sabine gave a slight grin under her helmet. "No cape," she answered just as quietly.

The man suddenly took his WESTAR blaster from its holster, spun it on his finger, and leveled it to at Sabine's heart.

"State your name and House," the man snarled.

She took a deep breath and casually spread her feet apart, ready in case the Mandalorian tried to shoot her.

"I'm Sabine Wren of Clan Wren," she announced, projecting her voice.

"House Vizsla."

The man reared back in shock and the crowd of Death Watch members started murmuring amongst themselves. The man who was pointing the blaster at her seemed to grow angry and instantly twitched his finger, pulling the trigger. But Sabine was ready and had already moved out of the line of fire as the red laser zoomed inches away from her chest. Sabine suddenly whirled around, heart pounding, and whipped out the Darksaber. The ancient black blade sliced through the WESTAR blaster like it was flimsi.

The Death Watch camp was dead silent.

"Have I got your attention, now?" Sabine yelled out to the crowd, raising the Darksaber above her head. When there was no answer, Sabine walked onto a makeshift stage that Death Watch had conveniently placed in the middle of the valley, taking off her helmet and tossing it aside. "I am Sabine Wren," she repeated, retracting the Darksaber's blade and looking down at the crowd. "The last loyal survivor of Clan Wren, House Vizsla."

" _Loyal?_ " one of the Mandalorians spat. "We remember you, _Wren._ You were the one who single-handedly managed to get the Empire to launch a kill sentence on all House Vizsla!"

"And Clan Kryze!" another added.

Other Death Watch members, masked and unmasked, nodded in agreement.

Sabine swallowed, frowning hard. "Are you forgetting who enslaved you?" she shouted to the crowd. "The Empire took over Mandalore—not me!"

But they didn't know that Sabine _had_ done just that. Maybe not directly, but Sabine had designed the weapons that enslaved the thousands of worlds under Mandalorian control.

"The Wrens are a disgrace!" one countered. "They sided with the Empire! What makes you any different?"

The Mandalorians continued to shout and scream at Sabine, yelling at her to get off the stage. Some hands even went to their blasters, preparing for her immediate execution.

Sabine's heart was racing and her throat felt dry. _This is getting out of hand,_ she thought frantically. The crowd pushed against the stage, making it shake. Sabine could see the hate in their eyes. They were all remembering the people they lost due to the Empire's takeover.

Her eyes suddenly caught one particular person, standing off to the side. It was the twin-striped man, the one who had almost shot her. He had his arms crossed and helmet still on, surveying the scene while barely rotating his head.

Sabine gritted her teeth. The Death Watch members would listen to him. She knew they would. But he still made no move to calm the angry mob.

Sabine's mind whirled, thinking quick. All it took was for one Mandalorian to take a shot at her and the valley would explode in a firefight.

"Wren!" Someone screamed. "Traitor!"

"Traitor!" another shouted and others took up the cry.

"Traitor! Traitor! _TRAITOR!_ "

A Mando hiked his boot up on the stage, his hand going to the blaster.

Sabine instantly whipped out the Darksaber, igniting its pulsing blade, ran to the edge of the stage and…

…Slashed it across the trunk of the pole holding the Death Watch and Clan Caladon banner. It was located right next to the stage and the Darksaber sliced through the broad, thick, wooden pole instantly, as if it were flimsi. The wood sizzled and smoldered, slowly sliding down from its trunk. The banners whipped in the air as it seemed to fall in slow motion, the tip of the pole looked as if it scraped the sky.

True to the Mandalorian name, not a single scream emitted from any of the Death Watch member's mouths, yet they all scrambled, fleeing from the descending pole. Sabine heard a strangled yelp from the Mando who had tried to climb onto the stage, as he now slipped in the snow. The man threw himself away from the pole as it finally fell to the Mandalore earth, crashing just inches away the Mando with a resounding _THUD_ that vibrated Sabine's insides.

Sabine gripped the Darksaber in her hand, watching with narrowed eyes as the Death Watch all stared up at her, unblinkingly, dead quiet. Sabine retracted the Darksaber's blade and placed it on the back of her belt, hopping off the stage. The sea of Mandalorians parted for her as she walked straight up to the twin-striped man. He slowly looked down at her, his arms still crossed.

"So this is how you solve your problems?" Sabine asked quietly. "Letting others do your work? Because _you_ not jumping in is defiling the code, no matter how much you want me dead."

The man stayed silent.

Sabine got closer, her voice dangerously low. " _This_ ," she said, gesturing behind her to the fallen pole and shaken Mandalorians. "This is how I solve _my_ problems. When _you_ don't do your job."

The twin-striped Mandalorian looked past her and to the ruined pole, in splinters on the ground. The Clan Caladon banner that had once waved so valiantly in the sky, was now tattered and ripped to shreds. The double V emblem that was embroidered on the banner, which was a symbol of power, was based off the legends of the Caladonian Dragon. The banner itself wasn't important, but what it stood for was. And it had been brought down, succumbed by Sabine.

The twin-striped man watched as the Death Watch members helped one another off the ground and as a child ran to its mother.

"I see," the man said finally. "When you solve your problems, the outcome seems to be rather… disastrous."

Sabine held her chin high. "I prefer the term 'explosive.'"

He tilted his head, seeming to cast her a sidelong glance from his visor. Finally, he uncrossed his arms with a sigh and keyed something into his gauntlet. "I'll take you to the leader of Death Watch," he said eventually. "…Follow me,"

Sabine watched the Mandalorian walk away, the crowd of Death Watch members parting instantly and Sabine mentally bet fifty credits he was the second-in-command.

She quickly turned, grabbed her helmet off the stage, and craned her neck to try to locate Ezra in the sea of dark green helmets. Finally spotting him and him her, the two ran up to each other.

"You did good," Ezra said breathlessly.

"Thanks," Sabine sighed and glanced around for the twin-striped man. Pulling Ezra along with her, she jogged to the particular Mandalorian warrior and Chopper rolled after the two teens.

Sabine let go of Ezra's wrist and fell in pace next to the man, Ezra at her side. "Hey," she said lightly. "Are you some kind of lieutenant here? The people seem to _almost_ listen to you."

"'Almost?'" he growled, tilting his helmet towards Sabine. "I'm their second-in-command, Wren."

 _Sabacc,_ Sabine thought victoriously. _I woulda won my bet._ That definitely explained the air of leadership around the twin-striped man and the way the other Mandalorians seemed to flinch away from him and his confident, brazen stance.

He suddenly stopped and looked around, motioning to a couple of his men. He turned to Sabine. "I'll take you to our leader. But your boyfriend over there," he said, gesturing to Ezra, "and the droid will stay behind with two of my men. Got it?"

Sabine frowned. "Me and Ezra aren't—"

"Hold up," Ezra cut in. Sabine could tell he was almost smiling because of the second-in-command's misread of their relationship, but he got right up in the man's helmet, and jammed his finger on his chest plate.

Sabine stiffened. _Manda,_ Ezra had a death wish, being aggressive with a Mando like that.

"We all stay _together,_ " Ezra said, seeming like he as trying to sound intimidating. _"_ We aren't separating—"

The second-in-command picked Ezra up by his orange sweater and threw him down into the snow.

"You're dealing with Mandalorians now, boy!" the twin-striped man snarled. "What I say, goes!"

Usually, Sabine would have gone over to Ezra and helped him up. …Or clocked the person who threw him. But, she was in Mando country now. She couldn't show any compassion or softness.

So, she turned from Ezra (who was spitting out pieces of dirt and snow) and looked up at the second-in-command. "…Fine," she said eventually. "I'll meet the leader alone."

"Sabine!" Ezra protested, getting to his feet.

She gestured for him to be quiet.

"Ronan," the second-in-command said to one of the two Mandalorians that had come to stand in front of him. "Luc," he said to the other. "Take the outsider and Wren's droid… show them what Mandalorians do to _entertain_ their guests."

Sabine rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything until Ronan and Luc left, ushering an angry Ezra in between ahead of them.

"That was petty," Sabine growled to the twin-striped man. "And you're going to regret trying to push Ezra around."

The second-in-command shrugged and started walking forward. "They're just keeping your friend busy while we meet."

Sabine trailed behind the Mandalorian and looked back to see Ronan and Luc shove Ezra into one of the tents, and kick Chopper in as well.

"Hey!" the twin-striped man called to her. He stood in front of a massive dark green tent that was at least five or six meters high and held the flap open for her. "She's in here."

Sabine took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. With her blasters on her side, her pockets loaded with charges, her helmet under her arm, and the Darksaber on the back of her belt, she almost felt like nothing could stop her.

But then, Kanan's prophecy rang in her ears.

 _"_ _One day,"_ Kanan had said gravely, _"Your blasters_ will _fail you. You_ will _run out of charges. And your own skills will_ not _be up to the task. And when that day comes, the Force will be the only thing able to spare you from the inevitable."_

Sabine narrowed her eyes as she remembered his words and spun her helmet around in her hand before placing it firmly on her head. The young Mandalorian followed the twin-striped man into the tent…

…Ominously wondering how long it would be before that day came.

 **Phew. A little intense, eh? A bit** **ominous, like an omen of sorts?**

 **Anyway, stay tuned. I've got big plans for this story and I have a feeling you guys are going to love it. The next chapter is going to be called, "A Plot's Arc," which is kind of a play on words- as you'll find out later :P**

 **Follow/Fav and Review!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	4. Chapter 4: A Plot's Arc

**Hey peeps! Specter7 here. Just wanted to say that I'm always open to suggestions and constructive criticism. Anything that you have to say, I want to hear. Just keep it clean and backup what you want to say with canon and we're all good :)**

 **Also, for the next few chapters, I should be updating… once a week? Maybe? But later as we delve into the story, I'll probably be posting every other week. Anyway, read and…**

 **May the** ** _manda_** **be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 4: A Plot's Arc

* * *

"It's one thing to see us coming, it's another to do something about it."

- _Mandalorian saying_

* * *

Sabine Wren stepped inside the tent, yet the second-in-command stayed at the entrance. "You've got a visitor," the man said to a shadowy figure near the back of the tent.

Sabine squinted in the darkness, half tempted to use her night vision, yet she stood still.

"…Leave us," a female voice said with a slight Mandalorian accent, one that Sabine had lost over the years. The second-in-command gave a slight bow and immediately did as she ordered. Sabine turned toward the silhouette.

"I'm assuming by the markings on your helmet," the figure said in a low voice, "that you are, in fact, a Wren."

Sabine touched the helmet lightly, feeling its beaten, weathered edges, the paint peeling off in some parts. "Yes," Sabine answered.

"…And are you aware that I should execute you simply for that reason?"

"Yes."

The figure seemed taken back slightly, mildly surprised. Sabine watched as the Death Watch leader shifted in her throne, the weak light bouncing off her visor. "Fine," the silhouetted Mando said eventually. "I'll bite. What do you want, Wren?"

"To bargain," Sabine answered, stepping closer. "But first I want to know just who I'm dealing with."

The figure said nothing for a moment, then slowly, slyly, eased off her throne and stepped out of the shadows. Sabine's eyes squinted under her helmet as she finally saw the female's armor clearly. The top-half of her helmet was dark green and the bottom half was gray. Not unlike the rest of the pieces of her armor, which were all somewhere in between the two colors.

But one of the two prominent things that stood out to Sabine, was the fact that the female had jet-black, twin stripes painted on her armor—just like the second-in-command. But the leader's started from the helmet all the way down, and on her right side. The black, perfectly parallel lines cut across the right half of the female's helmet and continued down her chest plate, across her shin guards and ended at her right foot.

And the second prominent thing that stood out to Sabine was the short—yet flowing—black cape across her right shoulder, with a green emblem of Death Watch's symbol; the shriek-hawk diving for its prey.

 _That's the leader alright,_ Sabine thought victoriously, _she's got a cape._ Sabine looked up at the tall, lean, female figure.

"Your helmet," Sabine said finally, motioning for her to remove it.

The Death Watch leader tilted her head. "You first," she countered.

Sabine stared hard at the woman through her visor. It was weird, but the Death Watch leader's voice was starting to sound awfully familiar… Sabine slowly slid off her helmet and shook out her hair.

The female figure in front of her reared back, as if she'd been slapped. But the woman seemed to overcome her shock quickly, shaking her head. "You gotta lot of nerve coming here, Bean."

Sabine froze. Only one person in the whole galaxy called her that. That annoying, embarrassing, stupid nickname was given to her by an all too familiar Mandalorian. _It_ can't _be,_ Sabine thought, shocked.

 _She's supposed to be dead._

"Arc?" Sabine breathed. "Arc Wren? You're still _alive?_ "

The female slowly took off her helmet, revealing dark brown hair pulled back into a messy bun, bangs sliding across her forehead. Sabine's eyes drank in the familiar face from her childhood, yet now, Arc was older—an adult now—and had one heck of battle scar, running from the corner of her left eye across part of her cheek. The scar was faint but a gruesome red, showing that Arc had opted against getting stitches or putting a bacta patch on it. A noble trophy.

But that wasn't the only trophy and Sabine realized grimly that her cousin had a thin, blonde braid—contrary to her natural dark brown hair color—hanging from the right side of her head. Sabine had studied enough of the Jedi's tactics and customs to know it was a Padawan braid. Arc must have killed a Jedi apprentice and weaved his braid into her hair as a trophy.

If that was what had happened to the _last_ Force-sensitive person Arc had come across, what chance did Ezra have?

Besides the braid, the young woman had other, less violent aspects to her outward appearance. Arc's prominent cheekbones and slender, beautiful face spoke of a rugged elegance that Mandalorian women were famous for. Gone was the lanky teen Sabine had once knew and in her place, was a tall, lean and mean Death Watch leader. Arc's olive-skinned face was smirking and her dark green eyes twinkled.

"Nice to see you too, little cousin."

* * *

Ezra Bridger felt the Force send a zing of warning through him, and he had just enough time to dodge the first punch from Luc, one of the Mandalorians.

Ronan, the other Mando had just shoved him into the tent and Ezra had whirled around to see Luc's gloved fist.

Ezra felt a twinge of satisfaction as he dodged it, Luc missing his face with the first punch. But Ezra's smug thoughts were cut short as the Mando, his fist a blur, instantly proceeded to catch Ezra with a left hook. Ezra stumbled to the ground from the force of the blow, surprised. He hadn't expected Luc to throw such a strong punch, especially with his left arm. But anger soon overtook his shock and Ezra held his jaw, moving it around.

"Why would you _do_ that?" Ezra growled to Luc, looking up at him from where he knelt on the ground.

"It's my job to entertain you," Luc answered, his voice coming out slightly muffled from beneath his helmet. He paused. "So, are you entertained?"

Ezra answered by jumping up and rushing Luc, throwing a fist for the man's helmet. But the Mando ducked under the blow easily and kicked the back of Ezra's knee, causing the Padawan to crumple to the ground.

Ezra's fingers curled against the tent's cold, metal floor, wincing as cramps spiked from his leg. Ezra was _furious._ He wanted to give Luc a good beating, something he wouldn't forget. Something that would teach the Mando what happened when he messed with a Jedi.

But what Kanan had said one time rang in his ears.

 _"It takes far more discipline_ not _to fight."_

Ezra paused, torn. He glanced up at Luc. A very large, very big, very angry part of him wanted to take off the guy's helmet and beat him black and blue... But that still small voice in his head said otherwise. Sabine had wanted him to maintain a low profile. She had told him to, under no circumstances, never let them know he was a Jedi.

And unfortunately, that included not letting the Force guide his movements by fighting Luc.

So instead of getting up, Ezra stayed on the ground, crossed his legs, and looked up at the two Mandalorians in front of him.

"Surprising," Luc remarked and began to walk in a circle around Ezra. "So, kid, who are you? You're not a Mandalorian, so why are you sticking around Wren?"

Ezra shrugged, looking strait ahead. "Because I want to."

Luc suddenly lunged forward, gripping Ezra's sweater in a hand, and thrust the Padawan to the ground. "Wrong answer," Luc snarled.

Ezra gritted his teeth as his head slammed against the metal flooring. He glared up at Luc's visor, wanting to beat the kriffing arrogance out of the guy.

"I'll ask again," Luc said evenly from beneath his helmet. " _Who are you?_ "

Ezra clenched his teeth. He couldn't tell the Mando his name. There was a thin chance he would do so, but if Luc ran the name 'Ezra Bridger' through the holonet, he'd find just how many credits were on Ezra's head. And not only that, but the fact that he was a Jedi.

 _So I have to play along,_ Ezra thought, frowning hard. _Act like an angry prisoner, which shouldn't be too hard._

"Answer!" Luc shouted, shoving Ezra for emphasis.

"I'm not telling you _anything,_ " Ezra seethed, "You filthy piece of bantha fodder!"

Luc slammed Ezra's head up against the metal plating one more time before getting up and turning around in disgust. "Search him," he ordered to Ronan.

The other Mandalorian tilted his helmet to look down at Ezra. "Pathetic," Ronan growled and pulled the Padawan up by the front of his sweater. The masked Mandalorian searched Ezra over, taking out the blaster holstered at Ezra's side.

"Hey!" Ezra growled."Be careful with that."

Ronan ignored him and gave the blaster to Luc who spun it on his finger. "Huh," Luc observed, seeming to peer closely at it through his visor. "Modified DL-44 heavy blaster pistol. Advanced scope. Lightly used." Luc glanced at Rowan and then at Ezra. "You won't talk, kid?" he asked, not giving Ezra time to respond. "Fine."

Luc took off his green and gray helmet revealing blonde hair cut short in a mohawk and light blue eyes. Surprisingly, he was pretty young—not much older than Ezra or Sabine. Early twenties.

"If you won't tell me who you are," Luc growled, "then let's see how far I can get without you needing to."

He turned his back to Ezra, and then just as quick, whipped back around, slinging a glass cup aimed right for Ezra's face. Ezra's hand reflexively darted up and snagged the cup before the projectile could crash into him, but spilled steaming caf in the process.

Ezra barely stifled a scream as he dropped the glass and wiped his face with his sleeve.

"You kriffing sleemo—" Ezra spat as he shook the broiling droplets off his face.

"Language," Luc interrupted and kicked at the broken pieces of glass on the floor. "But, judging by your quick reflexes, I'd say you're a talented fighter, yet you don't think things through. You should have dodged the glass, not caught it."

Ezra stared at him. "What—"

"But you don't use hand-to-hand combat often or your fighting stance would be more relaxed," Luc continued.

Ezra was confused. The Mando was going to fast. "What fighting stance?" Ezra asked.

Luc responded by throwing several well-aimed punches at Ezra. Ezra managed to block them but Luc seemed to find a flaw and thrust the heel of his palm square at Ezra's chest, knocking the Padawan's breath away.

" _That_ stance," Luc clarified. "And," he added, "your quick reflexes aren't due to being a good shot with a blaster, because your DL-44 is lightly used yet shows scuff marks that say you had it for over a year."

Ezra was shocked Who was this guy? "That doesn't mean anyth—" he blustered before Luc interrupted him by grabbing his wrist and holding it up.

"And judging by the muscles in your arms," Luc continued, "you use a lot of upper body strength when fighting, yet the callouses on your hands and the tears in your gloves are all in the wrong place for hand-to-hand combat."

The blond-haired Mandalorian peered closer. "The callouses actually… they look like they're from handling a blade." Luc looked up at Ezra and blue eyes met blue eyes, Ezra's being the darker of the two. "What blade do you handle?" Luc asked, his question sounding more like a command.

Ezra said nothing and fought to not let his mouth drop. Was the Mandalorian on to the fact Ezra was a Jedi?

"Vibroblade?" Luc pressed, staring Ezra down. "Electro sword?" He paused, as if a realization suddenly hit him. Luc glanced down at Ezra's hand one more time and whispered, "Lightsaber?"

Ezra's heart was pounding in his chest as he shoved Luc away. "I _told_ you I'm not talking! I'm outta here."

A furious Ezra moved to the entrance of the tent yet a gloved hand slammed against his chest, pushing the Padawan back.

"We're not done yet," Luc snarled.

* * *

"How?" Sabine whispered to Arc. "How are you still alive? The Empire wiped out all the Wrens who didn't join!"

"Not all of them," Arc said. "You're still here, aren't you?"

Sabine just looked at her cousin. Arc had changed so much. She was so… grown up. Sabine couldn't get over the fact that her long-lost cousin was standing in front of her. But a thought suddenly occurred to Sabine and she paused. "Wait..." she said hesitantly. "You...You're leader of Death Watch now."

Arc nodded.

Sabine was confused. "But Clan Caladon took over Death Watch. I _saw_ their banner out front." Sabine paused and started to smile a little. "By the way, you're gonna need a new pole. I knocked the old one down."

Arc stared at her and Sabine smiled sweetly. Her cousin sighed. "You haven't changed a bit, little cousin," Arc said. "But to answer your question, I'm not just leading Death Watch. Clan Caladon and House Caladon are both under my control."

Sabine was shocked. "B-But," she sputtered and repeated, "You're a Wren."

Arc spun her helmet around in her hand and glanced up at Sabine. "After the Empire took over Krownest," she said finally. "I left Clan Wren. Journeyed to the Caladon System."

Sabine's eyes widened. " _What?_ And you're still alive?"

Arc shrugged defensively. "I'm just as surprised about you too. I figured someone would've killed you by now, considering what you did."

Somewhere in the back of Sabine's mind, the insult registered. But Sabine wasn't done talking about the miracle that was Arc's heartbeat. "Hold up," she said, raising her hands. "So, you're telling me, you went to the _Caladon System_ and… _joined?_ "

The Caladon System was one of many star systems under Mandalorian control, yet it went just as far back as Mandalore itself. The planets in that particular star system were shrouded in mystery and lore. Tales of epic warriors and magnificent beasts flowed from the Caladon System— even a particular legend about the Caladonian Dragon, which was a bit like Clan Caladon's "mascot," or symbol of power. It was what the Caladon System was famous for. Songs and poems had been written about the beast and there was even a prophecy about how whoever summoned the Caladonian Dragon would usher in a "new era of freedom" or something or another.

Personally, it was all nonsense to Sabine. The Caladonian Dragon was a myth, designed to scare little children and inspire the many.

Arc brought Sabine back to reality by nodding and setting her helmet down on a nearby counter. "I was adopted into Clan Caladon," her cousin answered. "The leader favored me and later, when he passed, the clan elders voted me to take his place."

But Sabine was still shaking her head. It didn't make sense. "But you're a Wren!" Sabine exclaimed. "You-"

"No," Arc interrupted coldly. "I only kept the blasted name in honor of my birth parents. I'm Clan Caladon now, Sabine. My new clan is driven only by honor, which is _why_ I left Clan Wren in the first place. Your mother's gone and made a mess of it, you know."

Sabine put a hand on her hip. " _My_ mother, but she's still _your_ aunt. You two are related."

Arc rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."

Sabine frowned, starting to feel defensive. "Hey," she said, "If we're talking about honor, you've got _no_ room, Miss Leader of Death Watch."

Sabine watched as Arc narrowed her eyes. "Clan Caladon is leading Death Watch into a new age, Sabine," her cousin bit out. "We're not Pre Vizsla's group of criminals and mercenaries anymore. We fight for Mandalore's freedom, and Mandalore's freedom only."

Sabine sighed. Arc hadn't changed too much. She was still that determined, honorable, fiercely loyal Mandalorian Sabine had once known. But the air around Arc was different. Her shoulders were pushed back and she stood at her full height, towering several inches above Sabine. Everything about Arc seemed... dangerous. Maybe it was the way her dark green eyes stared strait at Sabine, or her confident, lethal stance. Or maybe it was how her feet were spaced apart and her hands were balled into fists, ready for action in a millisecond's notice. Whatever it was, Arc had been daunting when they were children, but now? With the gruesome scar that ran from her forehead through the corner of her eye and ended on her cheekbone... she seemed downright deadly.

Sabine swallowed and put her helmet on a bench inside the tent. She knew they couldn't avoid what they were both thinking. "So," Sabine began, seriousness starting to leak back into the conversation. "How'd you escape?" she asked solemnly. "From Clan Wren, I mean."

Arc shot her an indecipherable look. "When the Empire came for us, you were at the Imperial Academy on Mandalore, correct?"

Sabine swallowed uncomfortably. "Yeah…" She knew where Arc was going with this.

The adult Mandalorian nodded slowly. "Well, I'm surprised you didn't get captured in the midst of the Empire's takeover," Arc probed, looking at Sabine with a dangerous expression on her face.

Sabine glanced at the floor. "Why would I get captured?" she muttered.

"Oh, I don't know," Arc began sarcastically, "Maybe because you're the reason so many Wrens were killed? So many _Mandalorians_ were killed?"

Sabine froze and her hands clenched into fists. "I…"

Arc stepped closer, her moves jerky with anger. "Because of you," she said furiously, shoving her index finger in Sabine's face, "My parents are dead, Sabine! Because of you, my little brother joined the Empire, just like your family did!"

"Don't tell me what I already know," Sabine growled slapping her hand away.

But Arc wasn't done and the adult Mandalorian shook her head angrily, her blonde braid whipping from side to side. "You _had_ to open your mouth, didn't you? Back when _you_ designed the weapons that enslaved Mandalore?"

Sabine froze.

Arc laughed bitterly. "Didn't think anyone knew about that, did you, little cousin?

Sabine slowly regained her composure. Arc was treading down a very dangerous path...

Arc stepped closer, jamming a finger on Sabine's shoulder plate. "You're a _disgrace,_ Sabine. A traitor. You designed those weapons for the Empire, and they turned them around on us. And _then_ you try to speak out, and they launch a kill sentence on all House Vizsla who don't join!"

Sabine looked up at Arc. The Death Watch leader looked angry, but Sabine could see the hurt in her eyes.

"I spoke out," Sabine said, her voice dangerously low. "But I couldn't control what the Empire would do."

Her cousin threw a hand up in the hair, turning away.

" _Arc_ ," Sabine pressed. "Remember who the real enemy is! _I_ didn't kill your parents.

"The Empire did."

Arc glanced at Sabine out of the corner of her eye. "I know," her cousin growled. "That's why you're still alive." She turned to Sabine grudgingly. "…For now."

Sabine slowly relaxed. She sighed. "Well, I see you and your second-in-command share similar views. He wanted to kill me, earlier. Almost did, in fact."

Arc tilted her head slightly. She looked… sad. "You'll have to give Kor some space," she said. "He's been after you for a long time and the only reason he hasn't shot you yet is because he's loyal to me."

Sabine frowned slightly. That explained the second-in-command's, Kor's, anger at when she stated her name. _Kor must be itching to kill me,_ Sabine reflected, _The only question, is what did I do to him?_

"So," Arc sighed. "What do you want? I know you didn't come to Death Watch for a friendly visit."

Sabine shook her head. "As much as I wish that were true, I'm here for a different reason entirely."

The adult Mandalorian arched an eyebrow. "What's going on, Sabine?" Arc asked cautiously.

Sabine looked at her cousin solemnly and took the Darksaber handle off the back of her belt and ignited the blade.

"...It can't be," Arc breathed, staring at the ancient weapon.

"We need to talk," Sabine said finally.

….

Luc shoved him to the ground. "Who are you?" he yelled.

Ezra glared up at the Mandalorian with hateful eyes. "I _told_ you I'm not talking!" He spat out blood to hide the impending sense of danger Ezra was getting. He couldn't take much more without exposing himself as Force-sensitive.

Luc grabbed Ezra by the front of his orange sweater and reared back his arm… When Chopper rammed into Luc's shins.

The rusty droid shouted out at the young man in binary to leave Ezra alone.

Luc kicked Chopper away in disgust. "Filthy bucket o' bolts," he muttered. Luc looked at Ezra then back at Chop before dropping the black-haired Padawan. "Last chance, kid," Luc snarled. "Who are you?"

Ezra rolled his eyes. Was this guy deaf? He slowly stood up. "How many times do I have to _tell_ you? I'm not saying—"

Luc kicked Ezra in the chest, knocking the teen's breath away. The Mandalorian then spun and brought out his blaster, aiming it for Chopper. Ronan held the astromech as he tried to squirm away, raising his robotic arms in surprise.

Before Ezra could even react, Luc shot Chop with expert aim, the yellow bolt of plasma blasting part of Chopper's rusty appendage. Half of the robotic arm went flying and Chopper let out a mechanical scream.

Ezra's eyes shot open. "No!" he hollered, lunging for Luc. The Mandalorian fell to the ground, Ezra on top of him. He punched Luc again and again, Ronan making no move to help his partner.

Finally, Luc shoved Ezra off and the Padawan rolled away, his breathing labored. _That filthy, kriffing Hutt-spawn,_ Ezra cursed mentally and probably would have added more colorful adjectives to Luc's name, had the Mandalorian not interrupted his angry thoughts by laughing.

Wait… laughing?

No, Ezra's ears weren't playing tricks on him. Luc really was laughing, his hand wiping the blood off his lip.

"Kid," Luc said, smiling. "You're a little fool, you know that?"

Ezra wanted to fly at him again, but an idea suddenly formed in his mind. Ezra was fed up with the Mando's tricks and tests and Sabine might need him. Who knew what trouble she could be getting in to? Sabine might need his help to convince the Death Watch leader to join the Rebellion!

Ezra crawled over to Chopper and took the droid's metal arm in his hand—or what was left of it.

Chop let off a series of sad, warbled beeps and Ezra shot him a look. "You're a droid, Chopper," Ezra whispered. "You can't even feel pain."

The rust bucket beeped indignantly and Ezra bumped him. "Just listen, okay?" he whispered. "I've gotta go help Sabine and you have to go along with whatever I say."

Ronan kicked Ezra away and Luc slammed a foot on the teen's chest. "You want me to shoot the droid again?" Luc snarled. " _Tell me_ who you are!"

"Okay!" Ezra cried. He looked at the ground and avoided Luc's eyes. "The truth is… I've known Sabine Wren for a long time and she found this droid," Ezra said, gesturing to Chopper. "It's important to the Rebellion or something."

He glanced up at Luc to see the blonde-haired Mandalorian arching an eyebrow. " _Really_ ," he said, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"No!" Ezra protested. "It's true. It has important information about the Empire's weaknesses. I don't know what, exactly. I'm just in this because Sabine needs me."

Luc studied him curiously and then turned to Chopper. "Well, droid. It seems you're more important than I thought."

Chopper backed up from the Mandalorian, and rolled right into Ronan. He grabbed the droid to hold him steady while Luc advanced.

Ezra watched, barely stifling a smile as Chopper hurled insults at Luc.

The Mando's mouth gaped open and he smacked the droid. "I aught to wash out your circuits," he scolded and knelt in front of Chopper, prodding him. "Now, what kind of secrets do you hold?"

Ezra slowly backed up and quietly exited the dark green tent, slipping through the flap. He couldn't believe his luck, getting away from those two so easily.

But the Padawan missed Luc watching him from the corner of his eye. He also missed the fact that the blonde Mandalorian was smiling slyly. Or that he keyed something into his gauntlet.

"Kor," Luc whispered. "I got everything I needed."

* * *

"You want me to do _what?_ " Arc exclaimed in her slight Mandalorian accent, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Joining the Rebellion isn't as crazy as you think," Sabine protested.

Arc shook her head. "You're right. Knowing you, it's a whole lot crazier."

Sabine huffed and put her hands on her hips. "Is that an insult?"

"You know," a voice suddenly said, "you're cute when you get offended."

Sabine whirled around to see a cocky Ezra walk through the flap of the tent. He gave a two-fingered salute to Arc.

"Ma'am," Ezra greeted. "I heard you're considering joining the Rebels."

Arc frowned. "Eavesdropped, more like it."

Sabine watched Ezra glance from Arc to her. "Heh," he laughed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "B-But," he sputtered, "The offer still stands. The Rebellion isn't built up of just rag-tag moisture farmers. We're an army."

Sabine turned to Arc. "Ezra's right," she insisted. "And we would both prosper by being able to use your forces in a head-on fight."

Arc glanced at Sabine. "You're being ridiculous, little cousin," she said in disdain. "I fight only for the freedom of Mandalore. Not for petty outsiders."

Sabine stared at her cousin, something strong welling up inside of her. "And you think I don't do the same?" she shot back.

Arc paused, looked at her cautiously.

Sabine took a deep breath. "After my family turned their backs on me, after my parents disowned me, I was lost. Mandalore had failed me." Sabine's muscles were taunt as she looked up at her cousin, who's face was emotionless. "I didn't have a purpose," Sabine pressed. "Not until I found my real family. My family forged out of heart, not blood." She swallowed and clenched her hands into fists. "I don't fight for the Rebellion," she proclaimed. "I fight for the _people._ The Rebellion's cause simply lines up with my own."

Ezra came to stand beside her. "And our ranks are full of people like that," he added. "We may be outnumbered, but we've got hope. And that's a good enough chance to take."

"No," Arc suddenly snarled. Sabine looked up at her cousin and the adult Mandalorian's face was still cold and emotionless. "You don't have _hope._ You have desperation."

"Freedom is worth fighting for!" Sabine objected, raising her voice."Don't tell me you don't feel the same!"

Arc seemed to grow angry and she shook her head. "Joining the Rebellion," she spat, getting into Sabine's face.

"Is just about as absurd as you having the Darksaber."

Sabine closed her eyes tight and clenched her jaw. She had just poured her heart out to her cousin… yet it seemed as if Arc really hadn't changed. Not like Sabine had.

Arc Wren really was the leader of Death Watch.

Sabine slowly opened her amber-brown eyes and stared into her cousin's icy green ones. Sabine furrowed her brows and her lip curled in a snarl. She brought out the Darksaber again, holding it at her side, and ignited its pulsing black blade.

"I," she shouted, "Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla, hereby proclaim myself as the new Mand'alor."

She watched as Arc's eyes widened and the adult stepped back.

"As a ruler," Sabine continued, "You, Arc Wren, leader of House Caladon and Death Watch, have the rights to either accept my claim or challenge me and invoke the code." Sabine pointed the Darksaber at the Mandalorian, the blade only inches from her throat, yet Arc didn't even twitch. She stayed silent, watching Sabine.

"You are bound to the _Resol'nare,_ " Sabine pressed after her cousin didn't answer. "So, choose! Kneel or invoke the code."

When Arc didn't move, Sabine shoved the Darksaber closer. " _Now_ ," she snarled.

Finally, Arc quietly said, "As leader of House Caladon, I invoke the code to seek justice through single combat."

Sabine lowered the Darksaber and retracted the beam of light. Se looked coldly ahead, not glancing at Arc as the Death Watch leader slipped by her.

"We begin at dawn," Arc told her, her voice void of any emotion. After her cousin left the tent, Sabine finally sighed and rubbed her head. She felt Ezra put his hand on her shoulder but she shook it off.

"Not now Ezra," Sabine muttered and sat on a makeshift bench, holding her head in her hands.

She didn't have to look at Ezra to know he was still there, offering quiet support. Finally, he softly spoke. "…Just remember," Ezra said, hesitating. "You're not alone, Sabine. What happened with your family is in the past."

"But it still hurts," she whispered.

"I know," Ezra said. "But I swear, I won't leave you. Not like they did."

Sabine looked up at the teen to find serious dark blue eyes, meaning every word of his oath.

"And I'm with you," Ezra added.

"All the way."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he simply touched her shoulder lightly and left.

* * *

Kor watched as Wren's companion left Arc's tent. The boy looked around and walked over to Wren's ship, probably settling down for the night. Wren later exited Arc's tent as well, her helmet under her arm.

An old, rusted C1 droid suddenly rolled up to the girl, letting off a series of indignant beeps and showing her what was left of its robotic arm.

"Slow down," Kor heard Wren tell the droid. "Chopper, what happened to your arm?"

The machine beeped accusingly, gesturing with the half of its appendage back to two men who were exiting a tent.

Ronan and Luc.

Kor watched, smiling under his helmet as Wren looked down at her droid, demanding, "Which one did it?"

As the droid informed her it was Luc, Wren immediately marched up to him. Kor watched in amusement as Wren shoved her helmet at Luc's chest.

"Listen," the girl said. "I know what you did to my droid was just business… But if you _ever_ hurt any of my friends again, you'll need help picking your teeth up off the ground. Got it?"

Kor watched as Luc simply gave Wren a sly smile, looking at down at her. "Yes, ma'am."

Sabine shoved him with her helmet one last time and walked to her ship, the _Sheathipede_ -class transport shuttle. The droid trailed after her, beeping insults to Luc as the Mandalorian walked up to Kor.

"What did you learn?" Kor asked him in a low voice.

Luc glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "I couldn't get the boy's name," Luc said quietly. "But just like most people, his greatest strength is his weakness."

Kor cocked his head, listening closely.

"Personal loyalty."

"I tested the kid," Luc continued. "He wouldn't say a word about who he was, even when I pushed him around. It wasn't until I shot Wren's droid that he confessed—even if it was still a lie."

Kor frowned under his helmet. "What's his weakness, though?" he growled.

Luc cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. "His _weakness_ ," Luc stressed, "is that he'll do anything for his friends. Anything and everything."

Kor looked at Luc and then to Wren's ship where the kid was now.

"And I just shot the _droid,_ " Luc said with a bitter laugh. "If I did something similar to _Wren?_ …He'd kill me in a heartbeat."

Kor sighed. "Well, as much as I wish we could do that, we can't. Not with Wren most likely being the new Mand'alor. She'll be untouchable."

Luc turned to him with an aggravated groan. "You're missing the point, Kor!" he exclaimed. "If the kid ends up being a problem for you, _now_ you know how to pull his strings. The kid'll be your puppet."

Kor hesitated and nodded slowly. "Anything else?" he asked finally.

The blonde Mandalorian looked ahead. "The kid's brash. He doesn't think things through. He's got quick reflexes but it's not from hand-to-hand combat. He fights with some kind of blade, I think."

"Interesting."

Luc frowned slightly and looked at the ground. "One more thing," he added. "There's a bit of truth in every lie, and the kid's exact words were, "I'm just in this because Sabine needs me." So a fair warning, Kor..."

Luc looked up at him, serious light blue eyes meeting Kor's visor.

"The kid'll do anything for Wren. And whatever you have against her is nothing compared to what the kid will do to you if something happens." Luc gave a bitter smile, looking at the ground again. "And trust me, neither of us will survive the boy's wrath if we hurt Wren.

"Assuming, of course, she doesn't kill us first."

 **And so ends chapter four of "The New Mand'alor." I just wanted to say thanks so much to the people who are giving me all the positive feedback :D Thanks guys! Seeing 'em makes me so happy. And for the people who constructively criticize, I also thank you for setting time aside to read my story. Anyway, stay hungry for my next chapter (I'm super excited about it!). Sneak peek, the working title is called: 'Little Loth-rat.'**

 **Remember, Follow/Fav and Review!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	5. Chapter 5: Little Loth-rat

**Annnnnd Specter7 is here again! I am so happy with all the positive feedback I'm getting from this story! Thanks guys! :D :D :D I also read in one of the reviews that someone has challenged me to make this next chapter even better than the last. All I have to say to that is...**

 **Challenge accepted.**

 **I have stretched my creative brain to its limits and delivered the all new chapter that will blow your MINDS. I even found a quote (the one you're about to read) that is the perfect example of the relationship between Ezra's and Sabine's Jedi and Mandalorian sides. Read it, my friends and...**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chap. 5: Little Loth-rat

* * *

"Peace is not my profession, it is yours. War is my profession.

Should you fail at yours, I will not fail at mine."

* * *

Ezra lay on the _Phantom II's_ floor, his hand propping his head up, both resting on his tan-colored backpack.

It was late at night and Mandalore's moon was high in the sky, yet Ezra still couldn't sleep. And by the sound of the occasional squeak from the pilot's seat, Sabine couldn't either.

Ezra stifled a sigh and stared up at the gray, metal-plated ceiling. He was worried about Sabine. Now, he knew he didn't know much about Sabine's Mandalorian culture and whatnot, and it was pretty confusing for Ezra, but _still_ … How could her family abandon her like that? How could Arc reject her? How could her parents disown her? And Sabine of all people. Sure, Chopper reincarnated into a human, he could believe. Zeb too. Maybe even himself. But _Sabine?_

Ezra shook his head, getting angry just thinking about it. Her parents must be total jerks and completely blind to not see Sabine's potential and her uniqueness. _Well,_ Ezra reflected, _not everyone can be like Kanan and Hera._

Ezra turned his head from looking at the ceiling to looking at the back of Sabine's head. It was dark, so all he could see was her faint silhouette in the pilot's seat, but he could tell by her breathing that she was still awake.

"Sabine," Ezra whispered. "You up?"

There was a long pause. Then, "…Yeah."

Ezra stood and stretched, picking up his blanket and sitting himself in the co-pilot's seat. He sighed and propped his feet up. "Can't sleep either, huh?" He glanced over at Sabine. The teen was staring straight ahead at the starry Mandalore night.

"Nope."

Ezra just watched her for a moment, pursing his lips. Why did she seem so sad? So… closed off? Ezra looked closer through the Force, mentally touching her mind. He could fill a swirling storm of emotions battling on the inside of her. Anger, frustration, nervousness—

"Would you _stop_ that?" Sabine interrupted, raising her voice.

Ezra was surprised and drew back. "Wait, you can sense me?"

Sabine glanced at him. "Yes. Every time you… you brush my mind like that it's creepy. Gives me chills."

Ezra looked at her curiously. He didn't have to see through the Force to know she was being distant. For some reason, she was being awfully quiet and unexpressive.

"You okay?" Ezra asked suddenly.

Sabine shrugged defensively and turned away from him in the pilot's seat. "Fine," she answered tersely.

Of course she wasn't fine.

Ezra sighed. "Is it your cousin?" he asked.

He watched with a lopsided grin as Sabine moaned, laying back in her seat. "You know," she said, "Sometimes I really hate you."

"But you love me all the other times?" Ezra asked cockily.

Sabine opened one eye to glance at him. "I guess so, you little loth-rat."

Ezra smiled, but then leaned over, his hands on his knees. "So," he began, "your cousin. I mean… what's wrong? I get she challenged you for Mand'alor but… what's up?"

Sabine was shaking her head. "She challenged me to a duel, Ezra. Single combat. And Arc's changed, _a lot._ I haven't seen her since I was twelve. _Twelve_. Seven years go by, and Arc's gone and joined _Clan Caladon_ of all things. She's leader of her new clan, leader of her new house, and leader of the Death Watch… And what've I got besides the traitor's brand to my name and a ten thousand credits on my head."

"Aww, Sabine," Ezra said sadly and reached over to pat her knee. "It's a hundred thousand. Besides, you're going to do great tomorrow! You know that don't you?

"Of course," Sabine said sarcastically, looking strait ahead. "It's not like you and the rest of the Ghost crew and Rau and the Rebellion and all of Mandalore are counting on me to beat my own cousin in a duel."

He watched as she clenched her jaw and crossed her arms, still staring straight ahead. Ezra opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. The thing was… she was right. A lot of people _were_ counting on her to recruit the Mandalorians. It was a lot of responsibility—and Ezra knew she could do it—but to force this stuff on her all at one time… that was pretty stressful.

And as Ezra looked closer through the Force, not caring if she sensed his presence, he could feel the turmoil and conflicting emotions boiling inside of her. Anger, apprehension, regret, anxiety, and even… even fear. And all for what was coming.

"Do you think you can do it?" Ezra asked suddenly.

He looked over to see Sabine frown and wrinkle her nose. "Beat Arc? I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not."

"Are you afraid?

Sabine shot up and looked at him dead in the eyes. "Mandalorians don't _get_ scared," she growled.

"But are you afraid?" Ezra pressed.

She stood up, her hands subconsciously going to her blasters. "I'm not afraid of anything!"

Ezra turned from her and looked out the _Phantom II's_ window. "Kanan once told me," he began, "that I can't be a Jedi if I can't learn to be honest. With myself, at least." Ezra hesitated. "And I think that applies to you too, Sabine."

He watched as the Mandalorian curled her hands into fists.

Ezra held his hands up. "Hey, I don't have to know what you're afraid of. I don't need to. But I'm just saying that the same principle goes for if you want to ever reach your full potential. You have to be honest with what you're afraid of. With what you hate. With what you love. If you don't, you'll never be able to fully grow."

Sabine sat into the pilot's chair with a huff. "What are you saying, Ezra?"

He hesitated. "Look, I… I know I don't really understand your people's culture but I know you."

He looked at Sabine and she looked back at him with her piercing amber-brown eyes. He was treading into dangerous territory here…

"And you're not like the other Mandalorians," Ezra continued, silently praying that she wouldn't hit him. "You're different. That's why you were the one to find the Darksaber and not your cousin, or you mother, or any of them."

Sabine sighed and laid her head back on the seat. "You know what you're implying, don't you?"

Ezra sat up, his hands on his knees. "Yeah, I do. Is it really so crazy?"

Sabine shot up in her seat again. "Yes! _It is!_ I'm not a Jedi. There is _no_ mystical, invisible Force guiding my fate! My destiny is in my own, Ezra. _I_ make it."

Ezra shook his head angrily. Why wasn't she listening? Didn't she get it?

"I _know_ that," Ezra stressed. "But it doesn't mean the Force isn't guiding you along! Sabine, if the Force is leading your footsteps, then it means something is very, _very_ important about your journey. I've _sensed_ it! Kanan has too!"

Sabine turned away, her lip curled in a snarl. "I don't _want_ any mystic destiny," she bit out. "I just want to rally the Death Watch and get this over with."

Ezra watched helplessly as Sabine turned in her chair and flipped a few switches, shutting off the control panel so that the only light was from the stars above.

"Good _night,_ Ezra," Sabine growled, officially ending their conversation and turning her back to him.

Ezra looked at her dark, silhouetted form and felt the waves of confusing emotions coming off of her—even pointedly at him. He stood and took the cover that was bundled in his hands, and tossed it over Sabine, knowing she'd punch him if he tried to drape it over her too perfectly.

"'Night, Sabine," he said and walked to the end of the _Phantom II_ to catch a few winks before the sun came up and the duel began.

* * *

 _Darkness._

 _That was all there was._

 _That was all he could see._

 _Something pounded against him and Ezra held up his hands, trying to fend off the attack. But he couldn't_ see _anything!_

 _Wave after wave beat against Ezra. Anger swirled like a storm around him. Anger, fear, regret, anxiety, disgust, desperation, denial, hate… it pulled Ezra in different ways, tearing at his clothes, pounding on his skin, and creeping into his heart._

 _Ezra tried to reach out to the Force. He tried to summon the peace it brought, but it was as if… he were blocked. There was so many emotions rip-roaring on the inside of him, he couldn't think! Couldn't breath! He couldn't call on the Force just like he'd done so many times._

 _Ezra flung out his arms, grappling for anything solid, anything at all. But he felt nothing, only the impending darkness and cold._

 _"_ _Please," Ezra cried out. "Please, someone, help! Someone help me—" Ezra finally touched something._

 _A hand._

 _He grasped on to it tight as the hand pulled him out. Out of the darkness, the cold, the emotion, and into…_

The light.

Ezra sucked in a huge breath, his eyes snapping open, relieved to find blinding white light instead of the inky blackness.

"W-What—" he gasped.

"Ezra!" a voice said. "Ezra, calm down, it was just a dream!"

His eyesight finally cleared and he saw Sabine's worried face in front of him. Wait. The hand.

He was still holding it.

The hand that had pulled him out of the darkness… was Sabine's. She was grasping it tightly, and Ezra saw that he was clutching her hand so hard, her knuckles were white.

Ezra slowly, forcibly, relaxed his fingers, but Sabine still held his hand. "Are you okay?" she asked him. Her head was tilted and she looked concerned—a foreign expression on Sabine. "You kept on calling for help."

Ezra swallowed hard and sat up, shaking his head. "Fine," he mumbled. "I'm fine. Just… Just a crazy dream."

Ezra watched as Sabine gently let his hand go and patted his leg. "C'mon," she told him. "It's almost dawn."

Ezra nodded wordlessly, but still made no move to get up. He couldn't stop thinking about the tormented flow of emotions that had been in him during the dream. He hadn't felt such confusion and confliction since he'd used the Sith holocron.

Ezra shook the thoughts aside and stood up. He didn't want to remember such a dark time in his life. Besides, this was about Sabine, not him. She had enough on her mind without having to worry about Ezra.

He stretched and looked around to see Sabine kneeling in front of Chopper. She had what was left of his robotic arm in her hands, examining it intently.

Chopper let off a series of sad, mournful beeps.

Ezra watched as Sabine tried to stifle a smile from forming on her lips. "No, Chop," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're not going to be deactivated. It's just an appendage replacement. We can get you a new arm when we finish up here and get back to Atollon."

 _IF we get back to Atollon,_ Ezra finished mentally, and he knew Sabine was thinking the same thing. Ezra watched as the girl stood, letting Chopper roll in between them.

"Ezra," she said finally. "Does anyone know you're a Jedi yet?"

He hesitated and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. But the Mandalorian who blasted Chop's arm off, Luc, he… He might be onto me. He thinks I fight with a blade and he even mentioned—"

"—A lightsaber," Sabine finished for him. She had her chin held in her hand, a concentrated look on her face. "I'll keep my eye on him. In the meantime, Ezra, you can't use the Force. At all, for the moment. It's too risky and Luc seems pretty sly. If he connects the dots, the result won't be pretty."

Ezra frowned. "I get what you're saying, but the Force isn't something I can just turn on and off. It's a part of me."

Sabine pinched the bridge of her nose, looking aggravated. "Well," she growled, "Try. Because if they find out you're a Jedi, they _will_ kill us."

Ezra was getting angry. Sabine's stupid culture was so… so… stupid! "What _is_ it with you Mandalorians?"

Sabine narrowed her eyes. " _Excuse_ me?"

Ezra paced inside the _Phantom II_. "I don't _get_ it," he bit out. "The Jedi are—were—peacekeepers! We do good in the galaxy and all Mandalorians do is kill!"

Ezra was angry but Sabine seemed purely irate. The girl stepped closer to him, until they were only inches apart. "Say that again," Sabine snarled.

Ezra stepped back, throwing his hands in the air to make his point. " _See?_ " he exclaimed. "This is what I'm talking about! You Mandalorians are so aggressive, it's stupid! _I_ shouldn't have to hide my identity, because _your_ people don't know how to forgive!"

"You _do_ if you want to keep your heart beating!" Sabine shot back.

Ezra clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to punch something. Maybe that would release his frustrations. Ezra gritted his teeth and looked at Sabine. The haughty girl was practically the embodiment of her people. With Sabine's hand on her hip, the way her lip curled in a snarl, and the fire in her eyes as she glared at him, she stood for everything that made a Mandalorian, a Mandalorian; anger, hate, and war.

"What did we ever do to you?" Ezra shouted.

He watched as Sabine's eyes went wide with disbelief. "What did you _do?_ " she repeated, her voice raising. "You Jedi _ruined_ Mandalore! Why do you think most of this planet's a lifeless desert, huh?"

Ezra froze, staring at Sabine. She walked right up to him, jamming her index finger in his face.

"The Jedi bombed Mandalore and all the surrounding worlds," Sabine seethed slowly. " _You_ were the ones who slaughtered us, without mercy, without honor, Ezra. Mandalorians _hate_ Jedi. With every, single, fiber of our being."

Ezra's breaths were shallow and his heartbeat raced as he shook his head. No. No, it couldn't be true. The Jedi were peacemakers, helpers, guiders. They didn't kill! Not without reason!

"Reason," Ezra breathed. He glanced up at Sabine. "There _has_ to be a reason," he growled. "Kanan told me the Mandalorian Wars were reactionary. Kanan said _you_ Mandos started taking over systems, slaughtering _innocents_ and the Jedi had to stop it. _And_ ," Ezra added proudly, "We won."

Sabine's fist pounded against the wall with a resounding _THUMP_.

Ezra reared back, surprised. He suddenly realized how angry she was. Sabine was fuming as she walked past him, shoving her shoulder against his own. "Sabine," Ezra groaned, a note of regret in his voice.

The girl slapped his hand away, and snatched her helmet off a seat. Ezra watched helplessly as she slammed her helmet onto her head and pounded a fist on a button against the wall. The _Phantom II's_ hatch slid open and Sabine took a step towards it, before she stopped.

"Ever since I was young," Sabine said quietly, tilting her helmet to look at Ezra from the corner of her visor. "My mother told me stories of the Jedi. She said you were a corrupt and dishonorable band of murderers. That your kind were arrogant, cocky and selfish. She told me I should never trust a Jedi.

"And maybe my mother wasn't lying."

Ezra watched as Sabine walked out the _Phantom II_ , but he couldn't stop hearing her bitter words over and over again.

 _Selfish._

 _Arrogant._

 _Cocky._

 _Untrustworthy._

Ezra found he couldn't move. His eyes stayed glued to the spot where Sabine had been. The unspoken phrase hung in the air. Ezra could read between the lines.

 _She doesn't trust me._

Ezra felt his muscles lock up at the thought. Something bitter rose up in his throat and he shut his eyes tight. _She doesn't trust me. ME of all people. After everything we've went through she STILL doesn't trust me._

Something broke inside Ezra and his frustration, aggravation and anger unleashed in a single scream. The urge to punch something came on strong and—for once—he listened to it.

 _She doesn't trust me._

Ezra punched the wall. HARD. And just like that, the angry frustration at Sabine drained out of Ezra. His chest heaved and his hands shook as Ezra finally took a deep breath and sat in the co-pilot's seat, cradling his now-swollen hand.

By the Force, he knew better than that, insulting Sabine's heritage the way he did. Of course, it still didn't change his position on the matter—Ezra still thought the Mandalorians were cruel, bloodthirsty warriors bent on killing and making war. Sabine was the only—and _only_ —exception to what he thought. Sure, she was aggressive and she did love a good firefight…but unlike the other Mandalorians, Sabine had _compassion._ She had a good heart. She was actually _likable_ , unlike that sleemo, Luc. Sabine only flew into a rage if one of three things were insulted: her art, her Mandalorian culture, or the Ghost crew.

Ezra chuckled to himself, remembering a time when an unhappy cantina-goer had cussed Ezra out, using several... _colorful_ adjectives. Ezra hadn't thought much about it but _Sabine_ on the other hand… well, the pile of teeth she'd knocked out of the guy's mouth spoke for itself.

Ezra shook his head sadly. _She doesn't trust me._ How could Sabine say that? How could she lash out at him like that? The bond between him and her was unbreakable—she knew that. So the thought that she didn't _trust him?_

True, Ezra had insulted her Mandalorian culture… and he knew it was important to her… but surely the friendship between Ezra and Sabine was more important! …Right?

Ezra shook the thoughts away and stood up. He was reading too much into what she'd said. Sabine had simply lashed out at him. She hadn't meant it; she was just angry. Ezra had undermined one of the most important parts of Sabine's life, and he'd payed the price for it. Of course, she had undermined him right back, insulting one of the most important parts of _his_ life... but that was besides the point. Ezra had to be the bigger person and…

 _Apologize?_ Ezra exclaimed mentally. _No way._

Ezra stood still for a moment. Thinking.

 _Fine,_ Ezra thought grudgingly. _I'll apologize a_ little _. Then_ she _can apologize and I can see her off before she fights with her cousin and all that._

Ezra poked his head outside the _Phantom II._ There were a few Mandalorians milling about in the early morning light and they were all starting to gather in the middle of the valley.

"You know why Arc called a meeting?" one Mando asked another quietly, and Ezra pressed his back up against the inside of the _Phantom II_ , listening intently.

"No," he heard another say. "But I'll bet a month of watch duty it has to do with the outsiders. You game?"

"No bet," the first Mandalorian countered. "It's _gotta_ be about the Wren girl. Maybe Arc's holding her public execution."

"Eh," the other said unconvincingly. "I don't know. Wren seems too important to kill off. Besides, aren't her and Arc sisters?"

"Cousins," the first corrected. "But Wren has the _Darksaber._ There's no way Arc is going to let her keep it…"

Ezra watched discreetly as the two Mandalorians walked off to the stage, waiting for their leader to make an appearance. He rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly, stepping from off the wall and onto Mandalore earth.

The way those Mandalorians had made it sound, it seemed like the people were expecting one of two things to happen; either Arc executed Sabine in front of everyone, or she executed her in the duel.

 _They're acting like Arc's challenge is deadly_ , Ezra reflected, confused. _I mean, it's not like the duel is to the death or anything. There's probably gonna be some hand-to-hand combat and whoever loses, yields… right?_

Right?

Oh, who was he kidding. The words 'Sabine,' 'Duel,' and 'Mandalorian' were all in the same sentence. How could it NOT be deadly?

 _What if something happens to Sabine? What if… Arc beats her?_

Ezra took off running. No, no, no! This was ridiculous! A fight to the death was pointless—who cared if one Mando was better than the other? What would it prove? That one was fit to lead and the other wasn't? Ezra dodged the Death Watch members that were starting to crowd him. A few muttered curses in Mando'a as he shoved past them. Ezra craned his neck, trying to pick out a magenta colored helmet from all the dark green ones. The rising sun glinted off of the T-shaped visors, momentarily blinding Ezra.

"Where _is_ she?" Ezra muttered.

He was so busy looking for Sabine, he wasn't watching where he was going and rammed right into an all too familiar face.

"You lost?" Luc asked, arching a blonde eyebrow.

Ezra felt his lip curl in a snarl and he pushed the young man away. "Ah, shove off," he growled. Ezra craned his neck, looking for Sabine. He _had_ to find her before the duel started.

"Kid!" Luc called.

Ezra turned around, his hands balled into fists. " _What?_ "

Luc didn't answer, just lazily lifted in arm, spinning his hand in a flourish, and pointed to his left. Ezra spotted where he was pointing to and noticed a magenta-colored Mandalorian. He sighed with relief, his shoulders caving.

 _Sabine._

Ezra started forward, and glanced over at Luc. Ezra hesitated and shook his head angrily, pushing past the young man.

"You're welcome!" Luc hollered.

Ezra ignored him and jogged up to Sabine. She didn't turn to him or tilt her helmet or even glance over. She stayed perfectly still, looking up at the stage, waiting for Arc to show.

"Sabine," Ezra prompted.

She still didn't acknowledge him.

Ezra was started to get angry. " _Sabine_ ," he said sternly. "Answer me. Is the duel a fight to the death?" It was less of a question and more of a statement. He already knew what she was going to say.

"Yes."

Ezra shook his head violently. "And you never thought to _tell_ me?"

Sabine shrugged coldly, still looking up at the stage. "I thought you'd have figured it out by now."

Ezra felt his arms lock up as his muscles became taunt. "Sabine! Trash this Jedi and Mandalorian stuff, we're a team! We stick together. You don't have to face these kinds of things alone!"

"Yes, I do," she said bluntly. "You don't get Mando culture, Ezra."

Ezra pulled her to face him, turning Sabine around. His eyes searched her visor, wishing he could see face. "I _know_ I don't get it," he stressed. "But I _do_ get that you could die. _Die!_ Sabine, you can't risk that!"

For the first time in there whole conversation, Sabine finally seemed to put her guard down and let emotion creep into her voice. " _I_ can't risk it," Sabine whispered, "Or you?"

Ezra knew his face was contorted in fear as she had just voiced what he had been thinking. "Please, Sabine—"

She suddenly took off her helmet and Ezra saw her beautiful, amber-brown eyes. They were… sad. "Look," she said finally, "I didn't mean what I said, okay? I trust you with my life. I trust you more than I trust _myself._ But I'm making my own destiny, Ezra. And it starts here." Sabine paused before breathing her next question. "Do you trust me?"

Ezra looked at her a moment longer before moving closer, knowing that the next word would seal their fate. "Absolutely," he said with total confidence. Ezra watched helplessly as Sabine walked away from him to her cousin. Arc had just appeared on the stage, looking down at Sabine with a murderous glare

A duel to the death. That was what this was. Sabine could _die._ What would Ezra do without her? Ezra's chest was getting tight, just _thinking_ about it. He couldn't live knowing he could have saved her.

He couldn't live without her.

Trash those Mandalorian customs, if Sabine was about to die, Ezra was jumping in. If she stayed angry at him forever, fine. If Sabine never talked to him again, he would be okay. Because at least she would be _alive._

Ezra folded his arms and watched as Sabine walked up to Arc, ready to face her fate.

But behind him, on tree branch, sat a fairly small bird. It ruffled its light-brown wings, watching the scene before it with deep, knowing yellow eyes. It tilted its green-feathered head and let out a piercing cry that echoed from off the mountaintops.

The convor sat. Watched. Waited.

And observed it all.

 **Good _manda,_ I've got MYSELF hooked! Well, did that pass the challenge, my friends? Because personally, this is my favorite chapter out of all of them. Tell me what you guys think! Remember, Follow/Fav and Review!**

 **Chap. 6 is called Facing Fate ...Yeah, you guys are totally hooked.**

 **Specter7 out.**


	6. Chapter 6: Facing Fate

**Surprise everyone! I'm not dead!**

 **Now, before you people start throwing rotten vegetables at me for not updating in, like, three months… I have a very good reason why I didn't! Yeah! See, my computer broke and I wasn't able to retrieve all my chapters I had on it. But, good news, it's fixed now. (And if you're wondering, I did NOT drop my laptop. I don't know what you're talking about.)**

 **With that being said, here is the long-awaited Chapter Six. I love it (mostly because I love Arc) and I hope you guys love it too! *throws roses and plushy hearts to the world***

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter Six: Facing Fate

* * *

"Your mistakes don't define you. It's what you do after the mistake that matters."

 _-Cin Vhetin_

* * *

Sabine looked up at Arc cautiously, her hands slowly balling into fists. Her cousin was glaring down furiously at Sabine, fire in the young woman's eyes.

Sabine knew that look. What was her cousin planning?

But Arc dragged her gaze away from Sabine and looked out at the gathering Death Watch members. "Everyone!" Arc shouted finally and the Mandalorians quieted. "I've gathered you here today… for your entertainment!"

Arc looked dead at Sabine, slowly raising an arm and pointing to her. " _This_ one, this… _traitor,_ has proclaimed herself Mand'alor!"

There were gasps all around and Sabine kept her eyes on her cousin.

"She promises freedom, when she is the physical embodiment of enslavement! She swears allegiance to only Mandalore, yet her loyalties lie in every other area _besides_ her homeworld!"

Sabine swallowed the bitter words she wanted to fling back at Arc, but she kept her mouth closed. There wasn't much she could do until the young woman stopped talking.

"My own cousin has betrayed me!" Arc shouted. "And I will _not_ let her treacherous deeds go unpunished." Arc finally stopped and looked down at Sabine. "Have you anything to say in defense, _outsider?_ "

Sabine stared up a moment longer, before turning to her right. She stayed silent as she walked along the wooden pole, the same one she had knocked down the day before. Sabine slowly bent down, taking one of the two tattered, dirty banners at the tip of the pole. One was black, which was Death Watch's flag, and the other was green; Clan Caladon's.

Sabine took the Death Watch's.

She walked to the front of the Mandalorians, climbing on top the stage. "Tell me," Sabine began, talking to the crowd. "Who are you? All of you, who are you?"

The Mandos looked at each other before one replied, "We're Death Watch!"

Sabine nodded. "Exactly. And are you the same Death Watch that followed Pre Vizsla, selling yourselves out to be mercenaries and criminals?"

The camp got dead quiet and Arc came up to Sabine. "We've changed," Arc growled. "The Death Watch is ran by Clan Caladon now."

Sabine jumped on the opportunity. "Yes, exactly," she said and held the Death Watch's jet-black banner in the air. " _This_ symbol," Sabine announced, projecting her voice and holding up the banner with the stylized green shriek-hawk. "Was used to represent a band of traitorous mercenaries. They were criminals, willing to slaughter children for their own gain. But, like your leader said, you've all changed. But _why?_ Why did you leave this past behind?"

"…Well," someone from the crowd said hesitantly, "We had to move on. We had to leave what Vizsla did to us behind."

Sabine stared at the man who had said it. "Why?" she pressed.

He looked down at the ground for a moment before glancing back up again. "Because that's not who we are anymore. We're not criminals and mercenaries. We are True Mandalorians."

Sabine gave a slight smile smile. "What's your name, warrior?"

The blonde man straightened. "Jaxon Ordo," he answered.

She glanced over at Arc to find her shaking her head. She knew where Sabine was going with this.

"Jaxon Ordo," Sabine said loudly, projecting her voice. "Makes an excellent point. The Death Watch turned from their traitorous roots. You had betrayed Mandalore for siding with Maul, yet you've changed. You've given yourself a fresh start, a clean slate."

Sabine turned to her cousin. "Tell me Arc," Sabine said, narrowing her eyes. "Do you penalize me for the same thing _your_ Death Watch has done itself?"

The tension was thick. The Death Watch camp was completely silent as all eyes turned toward their leader.

"Are you _justifying_ your actions?" Arc asked, her eyes narrowed as well.

" _No_ ," Sabine countered, raising her voice. "Are you justifying Death Watch's traitorous past?"

"I'm not justifying _anything._ We are who we are."

"And just _who are you_ , Arc? Who? Is the Death Watch the same group that helped launch Mandalore into a civil war?"

"We've _changed!_ "

"I have too!"

Arc seemed past angry. She seemed downright distressed. " _You_ ," she shouted, "Don't deserve mercy! Or forgiveness!" Arc's voice trembled as she uttered the next words.

"You don't deserve a second chance."

Sabine looked at her cousin. "No one ever does," Sabine said softly. "That's what makes it so much sweeter."

Sabine watched as Arc bit her lip, a family "tell" that had been passed to Arc as well as Sabine. Her cousin turned away, crossing her arms.

"Even if," Arc said grudgingly, "I was willing to… _overlook_ your crimes, besides forgiveness, you have something else you don't deserve."

Sabine arched an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

Arc turned around to face her. "The Darksaber doesn't belong to you, Sabine," Arc finally bit out, uncrossing her arms. "You have no claim."

Sabine took the blade's handle off her belt and flipped it in her hand. "Well, I'm holding it," Sabine said, thinking quick. "That's a pretty good claim."

Arc laughed coldly and Sabine stiffened. "Perhaps," Arc said with a shrug and moved closer, her eyes narrowed.

"But you're not Mand'alor yet."

Sabine watched, narrowing her eyes as Arc whirled around to face the crowd of Death Watch. The young woman had her shoulder's pushed back, all earlier emotion gone.

"I, Arc Wren of House Caladon," she proclaimed. "Publicly invoke the code to seek justice through single combat!" She turned to look at Sabine and smirked, her fine scar rippling across her face. "Winner gets claims to the Darksaber _and_ title of the new Mand'alor."

Sabine reared back, shocked. She knew Arc was going to duel her… but her claims were ridiculous! Arc couldn't be the sole ruler! No, no, no, Sabine had come _too_ far to be beat by her own family.

"Arc, what are you _doing?_ " Sabine growled.

Arc stepped closer and bent her head down, whispering, "We'll see whether or not you have what it takes to lead, little cousin."

Sabine stiffened. She finally gritted her teeth and got right in Arc's face before snarling, "Yes. We. Will."

Kor, the second-in-command, came up on the stage. He stepped in between the two cousins and cleared his throat from beneath his helmet. "The Darksaber," he asked quietly to Sabine, holding out his hand. Sabine slapped it in the man's outstretched fingers, not breaking the stare-off with her cousin.

Kor held it reverently before placing it on a stand one of his men had brought onto the stage. Sabine watched from her peripheral vision as Kor gingerly set the Darksaber on the stand and turned to Sabine and Arc. "Combatants," Kor announced loudly, "Prepare yourselves for a one-on-one, fight to the death."

Sabine straightened and backed away from her cousin, Arc sending her a murderous glare. Sabine jumped off the stage and walked a ways away. The Death Watch members had begun to make a circle around herself and Arc, allowing them to have enough room to fight.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Ezra, standing at the edge of the circle of Mandalorians. He had his arms crossed but Sabine could see his face lined with worry.

Ezra's brilliant, beautiful, electric blue eyes stared straight at Sabine. She felt chills go up and down her spine and bumps appeared on her arms as Ezra's mind brushed hers. Sabine could feel him at the edge of her consciousness, reading her emotions, feeling what she felt.

Sabine knew Ezra could sense her nervousness that she tried to bury, but she gave him an unconvincing smile anyway.

"Are you ready, little cousin?" Arc called, interrupting the wordless conversation between Sabine and Ezra.

Sabine turned to see a smirk on her cousin's face. "I'm surprised you're so eager for me to put you in your place," Sabine shot back, her hands hovering over her blasters.

The two begin circling each other and Arc shrugged "Well," her cousin said. "You've given me something to look forward to. The Darksaber, the title of Mand'alor… thanks for that by the way."

Sabine gritted her teeth. "You're not Mand'alor yet," she snarled and instantly brought out her dual pistols, firing two perfectly aimed shots at Arc.

Her cousin ducked and rolled, firing a few bolts of plasma of her own. The red lasers zoomed inches away from Sabine and she rushed forward, dodging the shots. At the last second, Sabine fired up her jetpack and it sputtered to a start, giving Sabine enough juice to flip over Arc.

Sabine instantly unleashed a perfect sidekick into Arc's back. Her cousin doubled over herself and Sabine launched out the energized rope from her vambrace. Arc rolled away as the whip-like rope snapped a few inches from her face. Her cousin flipped to her feet, putting up her fists.

"Well," Arc sighed, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. "Nice little trinkets you got there."

Sabine leveled her Mandalorian vambraces at her cousin, smiling slyly. "You know me," she said.

Arc smirked. "Yes," she agreed, "I do."

Her cousin suddenly launched herself at Sabine, throwing several punches, all of which Sabine dodged. Sabine instantly lashed out a foot to sweep her cousin's legs out from under her, but Arc surprised Sabine by jumping up and executing a turning kick in midair, aimed for Sabine's midsection.

Sabine took it to the gut and stumbled as pain exploded in her torso. Arc took advantage of the error and straight up tackled her, diving for Sabine's legs and tossing her over her shoulder.

Sabine landed flat on her back, and the jetpack stabbed into her spine. She gasped for breath, but found the wind knocked out of her. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, gulping for air that wasn't there.

"Don't think I forgot your fighting style," Arc jeered, and Sabine looked up to see her cousin's face upside down.

"And don't think I forgot yours," Sabine spat before whipping her arm upwards and the repulsor on her Mandalorian vambrace went off, meeting Arc's face nearly point blank.

Her cousin's head snapped back and Sabine heard her neck crack. The young adult nearly did a back flip as she collapsed onto the ground.

Sabine got to her feet, cautiously circling the unmoving body as she trained her blasters on Arc.

Her cousin slowly moaned, rolling to her hands and knees, her forehead to the ground. "Dirty," she growled. "Cheap shot."

But Sabine was emotionless and kept her blasters leveled at Arc. "You're the one who always said 'There're no friends in a sparring match,'" Sabine countered.

Arc spat out blood and picked up her head from the snow, rolling it around on her neck. She shot a murderous glare at Sabine. "No friends is right," she spat. "I'm gonna kill you, _kih ba'vod'ika_."

Sabine smiled at Arc going back to their native tongue. " _Kebbur ni_ ," she taunted in Mando'a.

Her cousin gave an angry battle cry before launching herself at Sabine. Her fists went for Sabine's face and Sabine absently recalled how Arc always favored going for the head shots. Sabine ducked under her cousin's blow and attempted an uppercut to Arc's gut. But the Death Watch leader caught Sabine's fist neatly and clotheslined her with the other arm, thrusting Sabine to the ground.

Sabine landed flat on her back again, coughing, and felt herself get increasingly more angry.

"What's wrong, Bean?" Arc taunted, using the nickname she'd given her from their youth. "I thought you were stronger than this!"

Sabine roared, rearing up and throwing herself at her cousin. But Arc held her wrists with one hand and launched a perfect right hook with the other, aimed right for Sabine's jaw.

"I thought you were smarter!" Arc added as Sabine fell to the dirtied, muddy snow. "Tougher!"

Sabine looked up at her cousin in a daze, her vision blurry. Everything swam but she could just see Arc, standing above her, calling out insults.

"Looks like your game has slipped since you left Krownest," Arc added, disappointment in her voice. "You're too much like those Core-worlders now. Soft. Weak. _Laandur_ ," she added in Mando'a.

Sabine catapulted forward. "I'll show you delicate!" she roared but Arc threw herself forward as well and kneed Sabine perfectly in the stomach, throwing the girl's body away.

Sabine grabbed her midsection, grimacing, her face contorted in pain as she rolled onto the ground. Everything hurt. Her neck, stomach, head, _jaw._ Oh, her jaw ached. Sabine half-thought Arc might've dislocated some of her teeth when her cousin threw that right hook earlier.

Sabine opened her tightly closed eyes to see Arc's mud-stained boot in front of her face, the green-painted armor located just inches away from her nose.

Sabine looked up to see her cousin's face, lined with disappointment, an eyebrow arched, and leveling one of her dual blasters at Sabine's body.

Sabine clenched her jaw, guessing the older woman's thoughts. "I'm _not_ weak," Sabine pressed shakily, her throat dry and metallic-tasting.

"Maybe," Arc said with a shrug. "But… just not strong enough to be Mand'alor?"

Sabine pressed her forehead into a patch of dirt, closing her eyes tight. Maybe Arc was right. Sabine already knew she wasn't the greatest leader there was. Maybe not even a leader at all. Being the Mand'alor meant leading thousands of worlds, all bound to the _Resol'nare_ , and all loyal to her and her alone. Sabine was _going_ to mess up. She was _going_ to make bad decisions and wrong choices. How could her people count on her? Especially after what she had done in the past?

"Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be," Sabine breathed, reciting the old Mandalorian saying.

It didn't necessarily mean just parenthood, but breaking the chains one thought they had been bound with and embracing what one could do with their own life. It meant taking charge of the opportunities Sabine had _now_ , and stop using her past as a crutch, as an explanation to reason why Sabine couldn't be Mand'alor.

No one cared what she had went through, what she had suffered. They only cared about how she would deal with it, how she would cope with it. How it would shape and mold her into something for the better or the worse.

Sabine opened her eyes and looked ahead at the Darksaber. She could just see the ancient weapon's hilt resting on a stand on top the stage. It's silvery handle gleamed in the weak sunlight and Sabine felt a pull at the pit of her stomach. It was weird to think the blade was… well, was _calling_ to her… But that seemed to be exactly what it was doing. Sabine yearned to hold it in her hand once again, to feel that odd but beautiful connection she had with the Darksaber as her thoughts connected to the blade's.

The weapon was old, powerful and mysterious. Sabine couldn't leave it; she had connected with it. Giving it over to Arc was like giving over one of her arms—she'd be incomplete with out it.

Sabine looked up at the blaster barrel pointed straight at her face, and further up at her cousin's emotionless face. "I'm not yielding," Sabine proclaimed finally. "I _will_ be the new Mand'alor. I have to be."

Arc didn't move. Didn't even flinch. "Why?" she asked hollowly, keeping the pistol where it was.

Sabine stared up at her cousin's dark green eyes. "Mandalore _will_ be free again," she swore solemnly, meaning every word. "The Empire has reigned too long over us. Deceiving, enslaving, and blackmailing our people. The Darksaber is a symbol of unity among the clans and it might be the only thing that can bring us together."

"Yes," Arc agreed coldly and Sabine's eyebrows shot up, surprised that her cousin agreed with her.

"But you won't be alive to see that happen."

Sabine jerked her arm up just as Arc twitched her finger. A red laser exploded from Arc's blaster while two yellow ones flew from Sabine's Mandalorian vambrace. The three bolts met in a fiery ball of plasma at point blank, throwing Sabine and Arc away from each other.

Sabine's face felt like the Caladonian Dragon itself had just torched her, the blaster bolts were so hot. She touched her face, making sure it was still there, and looked up at her cousin.

Arc was on her hands and knees, holding her ruined blaster in her hand and Sabine glanced down at her blackened, sparking vambrace. She flexed her fingers, trying to summon the blaster barrels to fire again, but the explosion had knocked her vambrace unresponsive.

Sabine clenched her hands into fists and looked up at Arc again. Her cousin tossed her blaster aside, keyed an order into her gauntlet and the rocket from her jetpack launched forward.

Sabine pushed herself up and sprinted forward, sliding on her knees as the rocket zoomed just over her head. Sabine jumped to her feet and slammed into her cousin, full speed.

She instantly twisted and yanked Arc's hand behind her back, the young woman's palm touching her smoldering jetpack. Before Arc could squirm out of the hold, Sabine pulled the young woman's arm tighter and kicked the back of Arc's knee, forcing her to kneel in the dirty, muddied snow.

Sabine looked up to see the rocket make a wide turn in midair, following the heat signature and start flying right for herself and Arc.

Her cousin writhed violently, trying to get out of the hold as the rocket flew closer and closer. Gritting her teeth, Sabine stomped on Arc's left hand and pulled the right one further up, causing Arc to unleash a guttural cry of pain.

"Are you crazy?!" Arc yelled as the rocket zoomed closer, eating up ground. Her cousin was frantic now, throwing herself from side to side.

Sabine grimaced and dug her right foot into the back of Arc's knee, and Sabine pinned her left arm across Arc's neck, completely immobilizing the young woman.

"We're facing whatever comes together, Arc," Sabine whispered, looking into the eyes of death as the bright, burning rocket was almost upon them.

Arc said nothing—mostly because she couldn't with Sabine strangling her. Sabine felt her cousin's body lock up, every muscle taught as Arc shut her eyes tight.

But Sabine stared unblinkingly ahead. _Three,_ she counted. _Two…_

 _One._

Sabine jerked herself and her cousin to the left, feeling the searing, smoldering pain of the rocket as it shot right past her, barely missing her body by a shriek-hawk feather. The rocket tried to turn back for another round, but it had already descended too much and it plunged into the snowy earth, several meters away from Sabine. Mandalorians anywhere near the crash site threw themselves to the ground, covering their heads as the rocket went off.

The explosion was deafening and Sabine covered her eyes with an arm as the rocket imploded spectacularly, flashing an array of sparkling, sizzling lights. As Sabine let her arm fall to her side and stood up, she realized with a smile that the rocket had exploded just where she wanted it to; right under the stand holding the Darksaber.

The ancient weapon was thrown sky-high, twirling and swirling as it arced and made it's speedy decent back to Mandalore earth. Sabine could feel its pull, its gut-wrenching pull, as it flew back towards her. In dream-like slowness, Sabine stretched out her arm, opened her hand, and extended her fingers as the Darksaber landed perfectly in her grasp.

She whirled around, igniting the pulsing, jet-black blade, and held it out, the point right under Arc's chin, inches from her neck.

Arc was already on one knee, reaching for her other dual blaster but the Darksaber's point made her freeze Sabine's lip curled in a snarl as she pressed the lightsaber closer. "Yield!" she ordered.

To her surprise, Arc didn't even seem upset. Her cousin's wide green eyes slowly relaxed, and the fine scar across her face eased. "I yield," Arc said finally. She didn't even smirk. Just smiled an easy smile, her white teeth sparkling.

Sabine retracted the Darksaber but her cousin didn't get up. She watched as Arc lowered her other knee to the ground and gently unholstered her blaster, laying it out in front of her Sabine's eyes widened. She knew what was about to happen.

And apparently, so did everyone else.

When the Death Watch members saw their leader, kneeling in the muddied snow, head bowed, unarmed, the rest hurried to do the same. Sabine watched as the people fell on their faces, mimicking Arc's posture.

Arc splayed her hands out to her sides, palms up. "I swear," she proclaimed, head lowered, "my allegiance to the new Mand'alor. I pledge my clan, my house, and my life to Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla. _Par kote bal ijaat be Mand'alor._ " Arc finished in Mando'a.

The crowd of Death Watch members leaped to their feet with the last phrase " _PAR KOTE BAL IJAAT BE MAND'ALOR!_ " they shouted, echoing their leader's words.

 _For glory and honor of sole ruler._

The valley erupted in cheers, and people clapped and whistled, many taking off their helmets and throwing them in the air joyfully.

Sabine found herself smiling uncontrollably as many Mandalorians came and slapped her on the back, spewing congratulations in Basic and Mando'a.

 _Is that it?_ Sabine thought dizzily. She was still reeling from what had just happened. Earlier, whenever she had been in Arc's tent, she had proclaimed herself Mand'alor, but hadn't really thought what her actions meant. Sabine had just figured something would happen, whether Arc would take the sole ruler title away from her, or reject her leadership and find another Mand'alor.

But deep down, Sabine knew she couldn't part from the Darksaber and if _she_ didn't do something about Mandalore's enslavement, who would? If _she_ didn't unify the clans, who would? Maybe Arc? Or Sabine's mother? Rau?

No, none of them had the vision for Mandalore—not like she did. Rau was a good leader, a great one in fact. But he didn't have the drive to lead _all_ their people—he had told her himself.

Sabine's mother? Heh, Ursa Wren was a jerk.

Sabine shrugged mentally. There was no other way to say it. Her mother was a control freak, demanding the loyalty and devotion of others, while rejecting the one thing that mattered most; her family. Yes, Mom was a strong leader, and yes, she would flourish under the position of Mand'alor. But her mother was too power-hungry and too enthralled in politics to be the leader their people deserved.

Arc? True, Arc was young enough to lead Mandalore for a good, long while, yet old enough to have outgrown the immaturity and reckless abandonment of youth. But Arc was vicious. _Cutthroat_ vicious. Even when they had been kids, Arc would always be the one to take things too far, not stopping until her sparring partner cried and screamed. She had no sympathy and Sabine remembered Arc swearing when they were young that she would kill every Imperial, one by one until vengeance was finally served.

Which worked perfectly for a leader of Death Watch, but not the sole ruler.

Sabine looked around at the hundreds of Mandalorians, all crowded around her. _Sabine_ was the Mand'alor now, and all of Death Watch had just pledged their loyalty to her. She was the Mand'alor—hesitantly, skeptically at first. But now? There could be no doubt. She had won the Darksaber in single combat—it was hers now. _Really_ hers. And Sabine swore she would see Mandalore freed from the Emperor's reign. Free from his tyrannical hand and free from his simple-minded puppet, Gar Saxon. Sabine saw a free Mandalore. Liberated from the atrocities of the Empire and loyal only to itself. She saw a culture, once again, bound only by honor and loyalty to one's fellow Mandalorian.

"Sabine," a voice suddenly said, interrupting her thoughts. It was Arc, shoving aside Mandalorians to get to her. She smiled and extended her hand. "Well done," Arc said finally.

Sabine gave a grudging smile and grasped her cousin's forearm. "Thanks," Sabine replied. Looking closer at Arc's smug eyes, sly grin, and slick expression, Sabine suddenly threw her cousin's arm down. "If you did what I think you did—" Sabine warned.

Arc threw her hands up in the air. "I didn't let you win!" she said, seemingly reading Sabine's mind. But Arc turned dead serious, her smile gone. "I was wrong about what I said earlier," she admitted finally. "About you not being loyal to Mandalore. You're a True Mandalorian, Sabine. You always have been."

Sabine softened. She opened her mouth to speak, but Arc held up a hand."Let me finish," she continued seriously. "What you said while we were fighting? It inspired me. The way you stood up to me, the way you didn't yield or give up, even when I had a blaster trained to your head…" Arc paused and looked sincerely at Sabine. "It showed your true heart. You really are the new Mand'alor."

Sabine could hear the emotion in Arc's voice and Sabine barely stopped her eyes from watering. "Thanks, _vod,_ " she said finally.

Arc smiled and tussled Sabine's hair in a sibling-like gesture. "'Course, little cousin," she said with a grin. "And we're family. I've got your back."

"Sabine!" a voice cried suddenly.

Arc walked off to go talk to Kor, and Sabine turned just in time to see a flash of orange as someone rammed into her. Once Sabine was certain it wasn't an attack but an embrace, Sabine gave Ezra a brief hug as he pulled back, his hand still on her pauldron.

"You're alive!" was all Ezra could seem to say. Sabine watched as his electric blue eyes drank in her appearance, as if not believing her head was still intact with her neck.

"Yup," Sabine agreed dryly. "I'm alive."

Ezra took his hand off her shoulder and ran it through his lengthening jet-black hair, which had grown out a little since he had nearly shaved it all off. "Y-You had me worried back there," he said and sighed loudly.

Sabine started to grin, realizing how relieved Ezra was. She could see his hand literally shaking as he ran it through his hair. Sabine pulled it from his head and clasped it, stilling his shaky fingers. "Ezra," she pressed. "I'm okay. I'm fine."

Ezra inhaled deeply. "Right. Right, I know."

Sabine paused and she grew somber, remembering their earlier argument, before she had dueled Arc. Sabine slowly let go of Ezra's hand and backed up a step.

"What?" Ezra asked, sounding confused.

Sabine swallowed, ashamed. How could she have told her best friend that she didn't _trust_ him? "I owe you an apology," she said eventually, her face feeling hot with embarrassment. "I… I never should have said I didn't trust you. E-Ezra, what I said couldn't be farther from the truth, okay? I was just angry… I should've never lashed out like that. I'm… sorry. Seriously sorry."

Sabine glanced up at Ezra's face to see his features soft. Sometimes, she would frown upon how easily the boy forgave, but now… she could feel nothing but relief.

"So long as you don't hold any grudges from me getting you riled up," he said with a lopsided grin, "we're even."

Sabine's shoulders relaxed and she gave a huge sigh. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath.

Sabine smiled and punched him playfully in the arm. "Hey," she said, "guess what?"

She watched as Ezra began to give her a lopsided grin. "What?" he asked.

"I'm Mand'alor now."

"I know," Ezra replied, still grinning, any earlier grievances forgotten about. "I heard."

Sabine put a hand on her hip and waved her finger at him. "You know that means I'm higher in rank than you now," she teased.

"Please," Ezra said exaggeratedly. "You can't get any higher than a Jedi—"

" _Ezra!_ " Sabine interrupted furiously, clamping a hand on his mouth. She glanced around to see if anyone heard him and grabbed the boy's sweater, pulling him down.

"You can't just say things like that!" she whispered furiously in his ear. "If anyone figures out you're a Jedi, they'll kill both us."

Suddenly a foreign voice interrupted their conversation. "Sabine, I wanted to—," someone said but instantly cut themselves off.

Sabine glanced over to see Arc. "Am I interrupting something?" her cousin asked cheekily, an eyebrow arched.

Sabine suddenly realized how close herself and Ezra were, with Sabine pulling Ezra down, her face against his and his hand gently grabbing her elbow. Sabine felt her cheeks flush and she pushed Ezra away.

Arc glanced at Sabine as she walked by, letting out a little snicker. Sabine socked her in the shoulder. "Shut up," she hissed to her cousin. "What'd you want?"

Arc sighed happily and put an arm around Sabine's shoulders, leading her to the middle of the valley and up onto what was left of the stage. "To embarrass you," Arc answered.

Sabine picked up her cousin's wrist from her shoulder and dropped it. "You already did that," she shot back.

"Ah," Arc said with a smile. "No, no, I meant embarrass you _publicly._ "

" _What?_ "

"Everyone! Everyone, attention!" Arc called, motioning for the Death Watch members to gather around the stage. Once they had and the valley had quieted, Arc cleared her throat. "Today is the day for new beginnings!" she began, projecting her voice. "It marks a new era of freedom and purpose! For _today_ a new Mand'alor has risen!"

The crowd shouted in agreement.

" _An olaromijaat,_ " Arc finished in Mando'a, " _Mand'alor te mav!_ "

" _AN OLAROMIJAAT MAND'ALOR TE MAV!_ " the Mandalorian's shouted, taking up the cry until the mountains rang with the sound.

Sabine was stunned. Did her ears deceive her or did Arc just give her her Mand'alor name…?

Her cousin walked by, patting her on the back. "Embarrassed yet?" Arc asked, not waiting for a response as she walked off the stage.

The Mandalorians milled about, some gathering the things needed for a feast they would surely have that night—Mandalorian tradition, of course. But Sabine took no notice and stared straight ahead, mouthing the words Arc had proclaimed.

Ezra must have came up some time between then and now, as she now felt him brush her shoulder. "What did she say?" Ezra asked her. "My Mando'a's not exactly spot on."

Sabine was too shocked to even launch a sarcastic quip at the boy about how _none_ of his knowledge about her culture was spot on—in fact, she half-thought he missed the target completely.

Sabine took out the Darksaber on the back of her belt and looked down at it.

"Sabine?" Ezra prodded. "Could you, uh, translate for me? Your cousin sounded like she said something important—"

"Free," Sabine interrupted.

She saw him frown. "…What?"

"That's what she called me," Sabine elaborated. "Arc's exact words were, 'All hail Mand'alor the Free.'"

A title. That was what Arc had given her. There had been many, many leaders before her, like Mand'alor the Ultimate and Mand'alor the Destroyer. But Sabine was sole ruler now. Her ascension would spark a new age of liberation. Sabine Wren truly was…

Mand'alor the Free.

 **AHHHHHH!**

 **Sorry. That was my inner fangirl screaming her lungs out. Like the title? Like the story? Love Sabine? Tell me in Reviews! Follow/Fav and all that jazz :)**

 **The next chapter is called Meshgeroya. Fifty space waffles to anyone who knows what that is! (Looking it up on Wookieepedia doesn't count :P )**

 **Specter7 out.**


	7. Chapter 7: Meshgeroya

**Specter7 here! This chapter is, admittedly, a bit more laid back than the others, complete with colorful banter, dry quips, Sabezra, and a super exciting game of** _ **Meshgeroya**_ **(think space soccer). Enjoy, friends and...**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 7: Meshgeroya

* * *

"Mandalorians don't make threats. We make promises."

 _-Canderous Ordo_

* * *

"Arc," Sabine moaned, "where are we going?"

"I _told_ you," her cousin snapped, "You'll find out in a moment!"

Sabine wrinkled her nose but still followed the young woman as she weaved in between the Death Watch members. Just last night, Sabine had beat Arc in the duel and her cousin had pledged her loyalty to Sabine. And, of course, just like Sabine had predicted, there was a huge feast with all sorts of Mandalorian delicacies, celebrating her as the new Mand'alor.

Sabine was _still_ stuffed after last night and was only now was the effect of eating to the point of gluttony wearing off.

"This better be good Arc," Sabine muttered to the young woman up ahead. "You pulled me out of conversation with Ezra for this."

"Relax, _Mand'alor_ ," Arc grumbled as she slipped by a few more people. "You and your boyfriend can talk later. I've got something way more important for you."

Sabine wanted to pop her cousin upside the head. "I _told_ you! Me and Ezra are just friends."

"And now," Arc added under her breath, "Since you denied it, I'm never letting it go."

Sabine clenched her jaw. Stupid cousin was acting like her stupid sister. Sabine opened her mouth to fire something snippy back but she accidentally bumped into a Mando.

The person she'd ran into glanced at Sabine and then jumped back, bowing quickly. "Apologies, Mand'alor," he said shakily.

Sabine swallowed and nodded, trying to not look at all the Death Watch members as they gave quick bows as she walked by.

Arc was ahead of her and finally seemed sick of having to shove her own men aside to get wherever it was she wanted to get in the camp. She fired a few shots into the air and raised her voice.

"Move aside!" Arc shouted. "Make way for Mand'alor the Free!"

The people instantly did as she commanded, parting before them. Some bowed, others kneeled, yet all were in a posture of vulnerability. Sabine fought to keep her eyes ahead and her facial expression neutral. _Guess I still have some getting used to the whole 'Mand'alor' thing_ , Sabine reflected uncomfortably. But after a few more moments of walking, Arc finally lead her to… wherever it was she was trying to get to.

It was a simple dark green tent, completely identical to the ones around it. But Arc stepped through the flap of the tent anyway and Sabine followed. Inside were a collection of random armor pieces, hunks of metal, crates galore, and a few sparring staves. Arc rummaged around the mess, apparently looking for something in particular.

"So," Sabine drawled, "you brought me in here to clean? 'Cause this place could sure use it."

"I'm looking for something, you _di'kut_ ," Arc muttered, insulting her in Mando'a.

Sabine crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the floor as Arc continued to wander around, opening and closing crates.

"Yes!" her cousin finally hissed, pulling out a long, flowing sheet of fabric. It was a deep, magnificent shade of crimson, and Sabine found herself mesmerized by the color. As an artist, she appreciated the gorgeousness of the particular shade of red that mimicked the color of blood. But Sabine instantly realized something odd about the sheet of fabric.

It wasn't a sheet.

The thick, crimson cloth was bunched toward one corner and had a fairly large hole in the the same corner. Sabine looked curiously at it as Arc brought the fabric closer.

"What's this?" she asked.

"…A sign of power," Arc answered slowly, holding it reverently in both hands. Her cousin lifted the cloth above Sabine, pulling her head down through the slot in the fabric. Sabine's head slipped through the hole and she looked down at the fabric, feeling it's tattered edges and silky softness.

 _It's a cape,_ Sabine realized. Well, more like a cloak, considering how long it was. The fabric was draped across the right side of Sabine, covering half of her body.

Arc walked in a circle around Sabine, her eyes narrowed, chin in her hand.

"How do I look?" Sabine asked.

"Like a rainbow threw up all over your armor," Arc answered immediately and Sabine wanted to smack her. Arc simply smiled. "But besides that," she continued, "…You look like a Mand'alor."

"Geez, thanks," Sabine muttered. But Sabine really _did_ like the cloak. It swept down, all the way to the middle of her calf and completely covered her right arm. It made her feel… powerful. Like she really _was_ the last of a mighty line of ancients.

"So, _Mand'alor_ ," Arc said with a smirk , "what's your plan? You gonna live here with us at Death Watch?"

"Ha," Sabine laughed. "You wish. I figured me, Ezra, and Chopper would stay here another week before we head back to Atollon."

Arc tilted her head, her blonde Padawan braid moving with her. "Atollon?"

"Where the Rebels' base is," Sabine clarified, fingering with her new cloak. "To tell them that the Death Watch joined the Rebellion."

Arc held up her hands and shook her head. "Woah, woah, woah," she said quickly. "I told you, us joining your rebels was ridiculous!"

Sabine narrowed her eyes challengingly. "I thought I proved myself to you," she deadpanned.

Arc stared back just as testily. "If you want the Death Watch as an ally of the Rebellion," the young woman continued slowly, "… then I'm coming with you to Atollon. I need to know I'm not gonna walk into another nightmare."

Sabine's eyes widened at the familiar phrase. Sabine had said nearly the exact same words to herself and to Hera before she had gotten over her trust issues. Well… she still wasn't exactly _over_ them, but she was trying.

And it looked as if Arc was suffering the same fate.

Sabine cleared her throat, trying to get her mind back on track. "Y-Yeah," she stuttered. "Yeah, sure, you can come with."

Arc looked surprised she had agreed that quickly. "Honestly?"

Sabine nodded mutely and her cousin slowly began to grin. Arc tussled Sabine's hair with a hand in a sibling-like gesture. "Thanks, _vod_ ," she said and walked out of the tent, Sabine following suit.

As they went, the young Mand'alor unconsciously played with the hem of her new crimson-colored cloak. It felt surprisingly natural to have the weight on Sabine's shoulder, to feel it brush against her neck, to see it billow behind her in the wind.

And as Sabine walked among the Mandalorians, they parted instantly, each giving quick bows and greeting her shortly in Mando'a.

Never before in her life, had Sabine felt unstoppable like this. But still, that nagging thought in the back of her head said she wasn't quite ready for something as gigantic as all of Mandalore's leadership. Part of her was still very much reluctant to lead.

…And maybe that part would never go away, but it was her duty to her people to try and free Mandalore from the Empire. If she didn't lead them, who would? Heck, no one _she_ knew.

Sabine and Arc made it back to the middle of camp and Sabine spotted Ezra. The boy glanced at her and then did a double take as he realized her new… addition.

"Nice cape," he said with a lopsided grin.

"Thanks," Sabine replied and came next to him, Arc getting the hint to back off. Sabine held the cloak up with a hand. "But it's gonna take some getting used to."

Ezra looked at her a moment longer. "I think it suits you," he said finally.

Sabine was surprised by the genuine praise. But… she would have probably said the same thing to him if their roles had been reversed. She glanced at him again, flashing him a quick smile. Sabine walked past the boy, punching him lightly on the shoulder and sat on the _Phantom II_ 's open ramp. Ezra joined her and they sat in silence, watching the Death Watch camp bustle with energy. Mandalorians rushed around, some sparring, others having a marksmanship challenge, and others simply laughing and talking.

Sabine's eyes tracked a group of young kids as they ran across the snowy ground, their breaths billowing in the cold air.

"So," Ezra said finally. "What now?"

Sabine watched the happy children, the sly teens, and the relaxed adults. The Death Watch really _had_ changed. It wasn't the vicious group of killers Sabine's mother had described. It was… well, like a big family.

"I don't want to leave," Sabine said finally. "Not yet, at least. I was thinking we would stay here another week and they we'd go."

"Back to the Rebellion?" Ezra asked, seeming to get deflated.

"Just for a few days," Sabine reassured. "Arc wants to meet Sato and Hera and the others."

Ezra started to perk up again. "And then we're coming back here?"

Sabine frowned slightly. "I don't know. Maybe another part of Mandalore or some other nearby world. But our journey's not over yet; we still have to recruit the Mandalorians. _All_ of them." Sabine paused. "What do you think?"

Ezra just shrugged. "You're Mand'alor. I'm just tagging along for the ride."

Sabine gave a small smile, looking at her paint-stained boots. She scooted a little closer to Ezra and the two simply sat in silence, watching the busy Death Watch camp.

Sabine gave a happy sigh, feeling for the first time in a long time, very content. She closed her eyes, feeling the soft wind breeze against her face, shaking her hair this way and that way. It was so… peaceful. Sabine opened her eyes again and observed the craggy horizon before her. The gigantic, snow-topped mountains that had looked so ominous before, now looked magnificent and serene. The artist in Sabine admired the sharp points of the mountain as they seemed to pierce the sky. The pure white snow contrasted so beautifully against the rocky gray.

The scene was beautiful. Peaceful. Awe-inspiring. It was—

"Oi, Mand'alor!" someone hollered, interrupting Sabine's quiet thoughts.

Sabine glanced up at the person who had called for her. It was a young man, maybe late twenties, with scruffy blonde hair that was short in the front and long in the back. He smiled, revealing perfectly strait, dazzling white teeth.

Wait… she knew him. It was the blonde man that had spoken out when she had given her speech yesterday. The one who said the Death Watch were True Mandalorians. Jaxon… Ordo, right?

Sabine jutted her chin out at him. "What?" she asked.

The man came to stand in front of her, a few of his buddies crowding around the guy. "You haven't lost your touch since you left Mandalore, have you?" Jaxon asked in a heavy Core-world accent, rolling a ball in between his feet.

Sabine narrowed her eyes, glancing down at the ball. " _Meshgeroya_?" she asked in Mando'a.

He nodded swiftly. "The beautiful game. We're starting a round now, if you want to play."

Sabine smirked and grabbed her helmet, immediately standing up. "Count me in," she ordered.

The Mandalorian grinned and kicked the ball into his hands, while his buddies around him erupted into cheers. "C'mon!" the guy shouted to everyone around them. "We got a game to play!"

The people whooped and hollered, some following the Mando while others hurried to get good seats… somewhere away from camp.

Sabine was just about to follow them when Ezra stood and uncertainly said, "Sabine… what did that guy say? Mesh-gar… what?"

" _Meshgeroya_ ," Sabine answered. "It translates into 'the beautiful game' in Basic." Ezra still looked confused and Sabine stared at him. "Ezra," she demanded, "you've never heard of the beautiful game? Limmie?"

His brilliant blue eyes finally seemed to clear. " _Oh_ ," he said triumphantly. "You mean bolo-ball. Of course I've heard of it. Who hasn't?"

Sabine rolled her eyes. "Apparently you," she muttered. Sabine glanced at Ez and sighed. "Mandalorians call it _Meshgeroya_. It's one of our worlds' favorite pastimes."

Ezra crossed his arms. "Is it right behind making war?"

Sabine froze. Did he _seriously_ — "I know you didn't just say that," Sabine said, deadly solemn.

Ezra shrugged innocently. "Just wondering," he said cheekily. "But, ah, I'll play bolo-ball if you'll play."

Sabine twisted her lips, wondering whether or not to accept the change in conversation. "Fine," she eventually relented and the two began to follow Jaxon and his buddies out of the Death Watch camp.

Maybe _Meshgeroya_ was just what Sabine needed. She had been pretty stressed lately, lashing out at Ezra, snapping at Chopper, and even unable to find the inspiration to draw and paint. _Meshgeroya_ was probably the best—and most constructive—way to release her anger.

The beautiful game was the most famous, well-known sport in all the galaxy. It was popular just about everywhere but Coruscant and Mandalorians were just as entranced at bolo-ball as the rest of the galaxy. Sabine's people loved the sport and often played it in their full suit of Mandalorian armor.

Sabine rolled her neck around on her shoulders, pleased to hear it pop. "'Been awhile since I played _Meshgeroya_ ," she muttered to herself.

Ezra looked concentrated as they followed the Mandalorians outside the camp. "Same here," he said. "Me and a few kids from Lothal used to play it on the streets. I haven't played bolo-ball since then."

Sabine glanced at him. "Did you like the game?"

Ezra gave her something in between a nod and a shrug. "Yeah." He paused. "Did you?"

"Yeah."

Ezra threw his hands up in the air. "We could've played together!" he exclaimed.

"Well…" Sabine said defensively, "you never said anything."

"You didn't either!"

Suddenly, a foreign voice broke into their friendly argument. "Meshgeroya!" someone shouted. The person ran around the camp, dodging in between tent after tent. "Meshgeroya at the field in five minutes!"

A group of children squealed with delight and took off running in the direction Sabine and Ezra were walking. As they sprinted past the two, Sabine motioned to Ezra. "C'mon!" she prompted him and both followed the kids, jogging behind them. The little Mandalorians weaved in and out of the other adults and ran out of the Death Watch camp.

Sabine jogged out the entrance and immediately stopped. Just outside the cluster of dark green tents, was a huge field. The snow had been completely cleared away and the dirt looked surprisingly dry. She could see a few players already on the field, spreading white powder to mark the lines.

Arc rushed up behind the two teens and slowed to a stop next to Sabine. "Are you playing?" Arc asked with an infectious smile, seeming out of breath.

Sabine nodded swiftly. "Me and Ez are. What about you?"

Arc put her hands on her hips, her smile being replaced by a smirk. "And miss an opportunity to knock you on your _shebs_? 'Course I'm playing."

Sabine cracked her knuckles. "Well," she began, smiling inwardly. "You better get ready, 'cause me and Ezra are gonna bring the heat."

Arc threw her hands up in the air exaggeratedly. "Good! We could use some heat on this cold, desolate rock!"

"Fine!" Sabine shouted back.

"Fine!" Arc echoed.

The two cousins immediately walked away from each other with identical huffs, and onto the dirt-packed field. Sabine watched silently as Arc got two teams together, shouting out who could play and who couldn't.

Ezra seemed jittery with excitement as Arc placed him on one of the teams, shoving and pulling people around.

But Sabine walked off to the middle of the field and slowly knelt, her knee plate touching the ground. She touched the dirt lightly, her fingers brushing the gritty, grainy, patted-down earth. It was perfect. Just enough traction so Sabine and her team could run without slipping.

 _Meshgeroya_ was a sport where two teams battled over control of a players couldn't use their hands to hit or bump the ball, but had to use just about every other part of their body. The object of the game was for the players to kick the ball down the field and score a goal. Each team could have one goalie and a player could tackle someone from the opposite team if that person had the ball. It was an intriguing and entrancing sport, one that inspired people from all over the galaxy.

And it was just what Sabine needed to cheer up her week. Plus, the fact that she got the chance to whup Arc's butt was simply an added bonus.

"'Hey, Bean!" her cousin called and Sabine stood. Arc pointed a thumb to one side of the Mandos. It contained roughly ten people, including Ezra and the man in his late twenties, the one that had asked Sabine to join in the game in the first place "You're with Jaxon," Arc said, gesturing to the blonde man.

Arc proceeded to take her own team to the right side of the field and Sabine noticed that Luc was on it. However, the second-in-command, Kor, was nowhere to be seen. Luc caught her looking at him and he gave a troublemaker smile and Sabine stared him dead in the eyes. She was still angry at him for blasting Chopper's arm off and for beating on Ezra. "You're dead meat," she growled under her breath and turned as the man in his late twenties—Jaxon—called for her.

"Oi, Mand'alor!" he called. "Head in the game, alright?"

Sabine gave him the death stare as well but walked over to where his team was huddled.

Jaxon inhaled heavily. "Listen up," he began, holding a silver, spherical ball in his hands. "Arc's got some good players this round—including herself."

"Who's refereeing?" someone from within their huddle asked.

Jaxon looked grim. "Kor," he answered. "And knowing the stuck-up old man, he ain't favored to any one team."

Everyone groaned but Sabine and Ezra. "Where's Capaal when you need him?" one whined.

Jaxon shot the person a glare. "We can't bribe a ref every game," he spat. "We have to be good enough on our own!"

"Arc does it too," the same Mando muttered.

But Jaxon ignored the young guy and spun the ball in his hand. "Forget Arc," he said. "We have our own star players. We've got the Mand'alor after all."

All eyes turned to Sabine and she shrugged. "I-I'm a little rusty," she said uncertainly. Sabine didn't mention the fact she hadn't played Meshgeroya in over four years.

"And…we're dead," someone else said bluntly.

"But," Sabine added, "My friend here is pretty athletic. He's got quick reflexes and I think he has what it takes to be a star player."

Everyone looked Ezra skeptically and someone blurted, "The outsider?"

Jaxon shushed them but he looked like he was thinking the same thing. "We'll give him a chance," Jaxon said finally. "What'd you say your name was?"

Ezra had his arms crossed and jutted out his chin before replying. "Ezra."

"Well, Ezra," Jaxon said and began to smirk. "We'll see whatcha got soon enough, mate."

"But he doesn't even have armor!" Someone from the back accused. "He's got it easier than the rest of us. It's not fair!"

"Life's not fair," Jaxon spat back. "So what, if he goes a little faster than you or any of us? We're Mandalorians! We were bred for this!"

The other members of their team nodded in agreement.

"We were bred to win!" Jaxon shouted. "So what are we going to do?"

"Win!" the team called out in unison.

"What are we gonna do?" Jaxon called out again.

"WIN!" the team screamed, Sabine included, getting pumped up.

Jaxon began to smile viciously, and he bent his head down, his words dangerously low, "We're gonna win. We're gonna hand Arc's tail to her and beat her so badly, she'll have thought we _did_ bribe the ref!"

Sabine's teammates laughed, clapping and shouting in agreement.

"Alright," Jaxon said and put his gloved hand in the middle of their team huddle. "For Mandalore, on three."

Sabine thrusted her hand in the tangle of arms, slapping it on the pile. Next to her, Ezra did the same.

"One!" Jaxon shouted, the others taking up the cry. "Two! Three! FOR MANDALORE!"

"FOR MANDALORE!" Sabine and the others screamed.

Their team spread out onto the field, some putting on helmets and some disabling gauntlets and vambraces. It was against the Mandalorian version of bolo-ball's rules to use jetpacks, gauntlets, vambraces or blasters. And Meshgeroya was usually played while Mandos were in their armor. It was excellent training, preparing them against fatigue and weakness in battle.

Sabine put on her helmet, disabled her vambraces, and checked her blasters on safety. Jaxon ran around their team members, tossing yellow cloths to each one of them. Sabine half-wondered what to do with them and watched as the other members tie them onto their belts, signifying that they were the Yellow Team.

Jaxon walked to the center of the field where Arc was already there waiting. Kor stood in between the two and held a credit in his gloved hand. Sabine grew solemn when she saw the masked second-in-command. He seemed to still have a grudge against her for some reason... but Sabine had no idea why.

"Call it," Kor barked.

"Heads," Arc said immediately.

"Tails," Jaxon shot back with his arms crossed.

Kor flipped the credit in the air and it spun around, glinting in the sunlight. The credit chip landing on the ground, sending up a miniature dirt cloud. When the dust cleared, Sabine smiled victoriously, forcing away her sour mood.

"Tails!" Jaxon cried and their team shouted in approval.

"Alright," Kor growled, dropping the ball in the center of the field. "Arc's team takes the kickoff. Places!"

Jaxon scrambled back, and Sabine readied her feet, moving around. She could practically smell the excitement in the air as Arc backed up, the red cloth tied around her waist flapping in the wind.

Everything was silent for a moment. And then Arc rushed up, reared back her leg, struck the ball, and the beautiful game began.

The ball went over Sabine's head and one of Sabine's team members chest-bumped it in mid-air, making the ball drop to the ground. The guy sprinted forward and Sabine matched his pace, her heart thumping wildly. Her legs pumped like pistons as she peeled off from her teammate, getting open. Arc's team converged on them instantly, and Sabine's team member had just enough time to kick the ball to Sabine before a Mando tackled him to the ground. Sabine stopped the ball with her foot and looked up to see several red-flagged members of Arc's team running to her.

Sabine swallowed nervously and kicked the ball, starting to run again. The ball felt awkward as it bumped against her feet and she clumsily kicked it ahead of her.

"Pass it!" Jaxon screamed. "Pass it!"

Sabine looked up to see him wide open, already halfway down the field. _Here goes nothing_ , Sabine thought uncertainly and reared back her foot, kicking the ball hard. The ball sailed over the opposite team members' heads and… sailed right over Jaxon's too. It landed practically perfectly in front of Luc and he immediately took the chance, kicking it over to the goal.

Sabine glanced at Jaxon to see him looking at her, throwing his hands up in the air in a look that said, _Come on!_ Sabine had her helmet on, so he couldn't see her timid, embarrassed expression. She gave Jaxon an uncertain, reluctant, nervous, half-shrug that said, _Sorry?_

Jaxon just took off running, following Luc. Sabine did the same and watched as Luc kicked the ball, dodging member after member of Sabine's team. One dived for his legs but he simply kicked the ball up, jumped over the Mando, and head-butted the ball. Luc continued on as the ball dropped back to the ground.

Sabine tried to catch up to him but Luc was too fast and already way ahead. Just when Sabine thought no one would be able to stop him, there was a blur of orange as someone rammed into the young man.

Sabine grinned wildly.

Ezra.

He had slammed his broad shoulders against Luc's gut, tackling him to the ground. Apparently, Ezra was still slightly bitter from when Luc had interrogated him.

"Are you entertained?" Ezra roared cheekily, one foot on the man's chest, seeming to mock Luc.

Sabine watched as Luc gasped for breath, flat on his back. "Yes," he finally wheezed.

Ezra threw back his head with a laugh and ran after one of their team members, who now had the ball. Sabine watched as their teammate kicked it to Jaxon, who ran the ball down the rest of the field and scored.

Sabine whooped with glee, high-fiving the blonde man as he jogged back. Ezra did the same and Sabine watched as her best friend was smiling from ear to ear. _He's loving this,_ Sabine thought to herself with an inward grin. _It's good he can finally act his age. Getting away from the Rebellion for a while might've been a decent idea after all!_

Sabine watched as Kor dropped the ball in the center of the field, and the game was off again. She sprinted after it, heart thumping, blood pumping, adrenaline racing, and all thoughts of stress and leadership out of her mind. Right now, all that mattered was winning.

So it was a good thing Sabine was competitive.

* * *

They were tied by five up. With only three minutes left on the chronometer, one team had to make a score and if Arc's team did, the game would be lost.

Sabine exhaled slowly. She would not let her own cousin best her in _Meshgeroya._ Sabine was getting the ball and that was a fact.

Kor dropped the ball, and the game was off.

Sabine rushed in as Ezra took the ball. He juggled it in between his feet, dodging Mandos as he made his way down the field. For a moment, Sabine thought Ezra had it. _We might actually win this!_ Sabine exclaimed mentally.

But all of the sudden, Luc came out of nowhere, slamming his forearm into Ezra's chest and took the ball right from Ezra's feet."Thanks, _vod_!" Luc shouted gleefully, kicking it toward Sabine's team's goal.

Sabine felt her lip curl in a snarl from underneath her helmet. "Oh, no you don't," she growled under her breath.

She plunged forward, her feet eating up ground. Sabine knew exactly where to hit Luc so he would fall, but as Sabine took a quick glance around, she realized her teammates were no where near her. If Sabine tackled Luc, there would be no one from her team to take the ball.

It was up to Sabine now.

 _I am going to enjoy this_ , Sabine thought, a wicked grin starting to spread underneath her helmet.

A red-flagged player ran up to Sabine, trying to plow past her. But Sabine pivoted on her heel and spun as the Mando slipped right past her. Sabine had her eyes fixed on Luc. She was steadily getting closer and closer until she saw the beads of sweat on his forehead and the concentrated expression on his face. Luc's eyes met her visor and he seemed to momentarily panic, trying to change course.

It was against the rules in Meshgeroya to use Mandalorian vambraces or blasters, but that merely gave Sabine an idea. Thinking quick, she yanked her helmet off her head, cocked back her arm and threw it as hard as she could. She smirked, feeling a burst of joy as the helmet clocked Luc in his temple, the metal slamming against his fleshy skull.

Luc was obviously caught off guard and his head snapped back as the helmet hit him, stumbling around.

"That was for Chopper!" Sabine cried and kicked the ball from out of his feet. At the same time, she shoved his face aside with a hand and Luc fell to the ground. "And that," Sabine added, "was for Ezra."

She kicked the ball down the field, her heart racing, finally starting to get the hand of this. All of Sabine's old skill came back to her suddenly, her feet knowing what to do by instinct. Arc's team members started to rush her, most trying to tackle her. As one ran for Sabine, she quickly pivoted, kicking the ball with the heel of her boot right between his legs. She spun off on the Mando's shoulder and continued running. People continued to run at Sabine, trying to tackle her but Sabine's quick reflexes and sharp skills barely saved her skin.

Two poles holding a mesh net rose in front of Sabine. It was the goal. And she was getting increasingly close to it…

A burly Mando suddenly came from nowhere and Sabine watched in horrific fascination as he rushed her. Sabine only had a split second to decide what to do.

She suddenly launched a perfectly aimed kick at the ball, and it bounced off the guy's helmet just as he lowered his body to plow into her.

Sabine slid on her knees, knocking out the guy's legs from under him. He nearly collapsed on top of her and Sabine rolled away to avoid getting smushed. She glanced up at the silver ball as it was high in the sky, glinting in the sunlight. The ball began to plunge back to Mandalore earth and Sabine leaped.

She had to time this just right…

Sabine whipped her body around in midair, nearly doing a backflip, and she felt the ball land against her foot with surprising force, kicking it. She promptly fell on her shoulders, wincing as a lance of pain stabbed up her spine and neck.

But she could hardly care and rolled to her feet to see the ball rocket forward and slip right through the goalie's hands.

It landed into the mesh net, just as an alarm echoed throughout the field, signaling the end of the game.

They won. Sabine had won. Her team had won!

The crowd erupted into cheers and Jaxon and the others, rushed up to Sabine. "That was amazing, Mand'alor!" Jaxon exclaimed, running up to her.

Sabine knew she was smiling from ear to ear. She was completely caught up in all the excitement. "Guess I'm not rusty after all?" she asked with a grin.

"Rusty?" Jaxon cried, slamming a hand on her back. "You shoot like a charged blaster, mate!"

"Sabine!" someone cried.

She knew that voice and an even bigger grin broke out on her face as Ezra pushed his teammates aside to get to her.

"That was awesome!" he shouted with glee, rushing to her. The next thing she knew, Ezra had picked her up in excitement and was spinning her around.

As the world blurred around her, all Sabine could see was Ezra's bright blue eyes, wide with excitement. He slowed to a stop, setting her down, yet kept his hands on her waist.

Sabine felt her heart began to race again and her cheeks suddenly felt hot. She froze. _What?_

But the feeling was gone as soon as it came and their teammates pressed up against them. People were slapping Sabine's back, shouting and whistling. But Sabine took no notice and looked around wildly for Ezra as the people crowded her. She gathered her cloak in one hand, holding its silky soft bunches as someone lifted her up on their shoulders.

Sabine's eyes were wide as the crowd of her teammates jogged her around the field, some supporting her back as Sabine grappled to stay balanced.

She was still searching for Ezra, her eyes scanning the crowd. Amber eyes finally met electric blue and Sabine felt herself relax as she and Ezra held the stare.

He stretched out an arm, reaching for her. Sabine leaned back, straining to grab Ezra's hand as the person who was giving her a piggyback ride carried her farther away. Their fingers touched briefly and Sabine watched helplessly as Ezra was pushed to the back of the crowd.

But still, excitement was in the air as Sabine watched in dreamlike slowness, the crowds upon crowds of Death Watch members, all cheering for her.

She smiled again, having not felt so content since… well, since she joined the Ghost crew. Sabine felt… home. With her people. On Mandalore. As Mand'alor.

Sabine had never felt so connected with Mandalorians than at that very moment. She was the sole ruler of her people and… she knew them now. She knew her people. And they weren't heartless killers like Sabine knew Ezra thought. They were… people. With families, and spouses, and children. With hopes and desires and dreams. They were people that had a longing to be free.

Free to express themselves, free to live without fear, free to simply have the joy of being free.

And as Sabine watched the Mandalorians before her, smiling, cheering, shouting, she knew that this truly was where she was meant to be. With Ezra by her side, her family back on the Ghost, the Darksaber on her belt, her cloak billowing in the wind, and her people before her, Sabine smiled. She knew there would be challenges in the future. She knew there would be trials and hardships she would have to press through, but she would be okay.

Sabine would be okay, because she knew she wasn't doing it alone. Whatever was coming, Sabine and Ezra would face it together. Because that was when they were strongest.

As one.

 **Whoo! Done. Well, guys, that's about it for now. Like where this is going? Tell me in Reviews! Don't forget to Follow/Fav ;)**

 **The next chapter's working title is "A Familiar Face." And I'll let you all predict who the "familiar face" is.**

 **Specter7 out.**


	8. Chapter 8: A Familiar Face

**Howdy folks, Specter7 here! "The New Mand'alor" just crossed the hundred follower marker! Whoop whoop! *throws confetti to readers***

 **Now...Is this chapter angsty? Yes. Is it full of pain, tears, and feels? Yes. Did I post something fluffy last chapter to catch you unawares for this chapter? Maybe. Let the angst ensue.**

 **May the** _ **manda**_ **be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 8: A Familiar Face

* * *

"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."

-Confucius

* * *

Kor watched through his visor as Sabine Wren was carried off the field. Her team had just won the _Meshgeroya_ match and everyone was overjoyed. Someone had Wren on their shoulders and the winning team was parading around, heading back to the Death Watch camp. Wren was smiling. Kor could see it from here. The girl looked so… happy. As if all her worries were simply washed away.

Kor's gloved hand curled into a fist, just thinking about it. How could she be so relaxed? So at ease, whenever Wren was the one who had caused so many of her own people's deaths!

And now, she was Mand'alor. Kor couldn't touch her. If he launched an assassination attempt on Wren—like he so desperately wanted to—Kor would be guilty of treason against the throne. Arc would host his immediate execution and Kor knew that for a fact.

He gritted his teeth under his helmet. All those years and years of planning to avenge his wife, all those years of smoldering anger and pure, unbridled hate… and for what? Now, Kor couldn't touch Wren.

Blast it, he should've taken the shot when when she first showed up in the camp! He had known the markings on her helmet meant she was a Wren—but he hadn't killed her! And oh, how he was regretting that now.

 _And the best part,_ Kor thought with bitter humor, _is that she doesn't even know what she did to me!_

Kor watched Wren. She was so young, to have caused the deaths of so many. With her brightly dyed hair and her armor painted all the colors of the rainbow and more, it was difficult to think that the girl was actually dangerous. But Kor had watched the duel between Wren and Arc. There was more to her that met the eye.

But Kor shook his head. Bile rose in his throat at the thought that he would never be able to accomplish what he'd brooded about for so long.

 _No,_ Kor thought defiantly. _Somehow, someway, Wren_ will _pay for what she did. She_ will _account for her crimes._

 _And I'll stop at nothing to see that happen._

* * *

 _Two weeks later..._

Sabine Wren had her hands folded, staring straight into Arc's narrowed eyes. But Arc was looking down at the wooden board in front of them, biting her lip in concentration. The young adult finally leaned back in her seat and took one of the short-handled knives out of the board and stabbed it back in a different square.

Sabine arched an eyebrow. Cube face six? Interesting move… Sabine hadn't seen that one coming.

Arc, Luc, Jaxon, and herself were playing cubikahd, a strategy game among Mandalorians. Jaxon had been the first to get out. Apparently, his athletic skills didn't quite match his strategic ones.

Arc brushed a thumb against her nose. "You're go, Luc," she said.

The blonde-haired man to Sabine's left hesitantly jerked out one of his daggers from the board, his light blue eyes scanning all the options.

Sabine silently pushed him onward. _C'mon Luc,_ she thought pleadingly. _Take the bait…_ She watched as his hand hovered over the spot she wanted him to move. Sabine had pinned him up against Arc's knives, and had him in the perfect trap…

Luc stabbed his dagger into the board, and lightning quick, Sabine yanked and stabbed her own right next to Luc.

Luc jerked his hand back with a yelp, cradling the finger she had nicked. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "My hand wasn't out of the way!"

Sabine smiled sweetly. "Oops?" She said, mocking innocence. Sabine turned back to the board, barely stifling a smile. "Anyway," she said slyly, "You're out."

Sabine enjoyed the look on Luc's face as his blue eyes bugged from out their sockets. " _What?_ How—" Luc cut himself off as he suddenly realized that her knife was right next to his, and she had now captured it.

"I've got your piece," Sabine explained while gathering the knife off the board and exchanging it for a blue-handled one. "And I just made your knives my knives and… you lose. Get outta the game."

Luc frowned hard and finally pushed his chair from out from under him, the pegs screeching against the metal floor. "Forget this," he muttered and walked to the back of the room to Jaxon, who was leaned up against the wall. "They've gotta be cheating," he told the older Mando.

"Gotta be," Jaxon reiterated.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Sabine called from where she was staring intently at the board, "but not everyone has to bribe a ref to win."She could see Jaxon get red from her peripheral vision. He mumbled something and grabbed his helmet from off a counter.

"Let's go," he grumbled to Luc, who followed Jaxon out the dark green tent.

Sabine cracked her neck and stared at the board again. Now it was just Sabine, Arc, and Kor in the room. Of course, Kor refused to play cubikahd with them. What crawled up his blaster and died, Sabine didn't know. Ever since she'd met the guy, he'd been cold and distant with her. Sabine had seen him talk with Arc from a distance and hear him laugh with the other Mandos. She'd watched as he had played with a group of children, scooping them up in his strong arms.

So if he was a good person to everyone else, what was wrong with her?

Arc interrupted her thoughts by stabbing an orange-handled knife to cube face ten. Sabine glanced up to see her cousin looking pretty smug. "You're go," Arc said with a half-smile.

Sabine's hand hovered over the board and she gently eased a knife out of the wood, spinning it in one hand. Sabine had a very elaborate plan in her head of what she could do and how Arc would react. Deciding on a move, Sabine grinned satisfactorily and stabbed her knife square in the middle of the board.

Arc's eyebrows went straight up. "Blade to cube face three," she observed. "Getting a little cocky there, vod?"

Arc stabbed one of her knives into cube face five, getting a bit too close for comfort. But Sabine simply smiled, moving her piece. "Strategy is an art," she shot back smugly as Arc jabbed to the left of the board. "Every move is calculated and accounted for."

Sabine took one of her blades and stabbed it into cube face four.

"Yeah, right," Arc said disbelievingly, moving one of her own pieces to cube face six, attempting to capture her.

Sabine hid a smile, moving her blade back, as if running away. "And art," the young Mand'alor continued as Arc chased her with one of her pieces, "Is always full of surprises."

On the last word, Sabine stabbed her blade to cube face one, capturing Arc's piece, therefor winning the game.

Her cousin's open-mouthed expression was priceless. She started to frown after a moment, and promptly stood up. "You know what?" Arc fumed. "Luc and Jaxon were right. This game is totally rigged."

Arc spun on the heel of her boot, swatting her short black cape so it billowed behind her as she left. "Kor!" she shouted behind her. "Do me a favor and don't slaughter my little cousin until after I've defeated her in that cursed Mandalorian strategy game!"

Sabine glanced over at Arc's second-in-command and swallowed. What was that all about?

Kor simply turned his helmet to face Sabine, his T-shaped visor staring at her emotionlessly. Even after Sabine's whole two weeks of staying with the Death Watch, she had never seen him remove his helmet.

Sabine twiddled her thumbs, suddenly shy as the silence spanned between the two awkwardly. Finally, Sabine sighed.

"Kor," she said, looking up into his viewplate. "What did I do to you? Please, tell me. I've no clue."

Kor stayed perfectly still for a long moment before tilting his helmet away and uncrossing his arms. "You're clueless," he rumbled in a thick Core-world accent. "That seems to be your natural state."

Sabine clenched her jaw at the insult and she stood. "Tell me what I did," she said, sounding more stern than she meant to. "I can make it right with you."

Kor turned his back to her and Sabine noticed how his hands balled into fists. "No, Wren," he whispered. "You can't."

And he walked out.

* * *

Sabine tossed her duffle bag into the Phantom II, still mulling over Kor's earlier words. Why was the guy so sour towards her? Every time she spoke to him, why did he spit something bitter back? What had she done to Kor to earn his hate? She'd never even met the guy before two weeks ago!

Sabine sighed and stretched, wincing as her back popped

"Sore?" Ezra teased, tossing his backpack in as well.

"Arc nailed me in the back yesterday while we were sparring," Sabine explained briefly, cringing as she twisted.

"That reminds me," Ezra added, "you should've seen me and Luc train last night. He went for a headshot and I ducked just like this-" Ezra displayed the move, engaging in a fight with the air. "And then I suckerpunched him right in the gut." Ezra did so and made the impact sound with his mouth. "Lights out for lil' Luc."

Sabine sat on the Phantom II's open hatch, which had become their daily meeting place. "Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge against him," Sabine teased.

Ezra plopped himself down next to her. "Hey, serves him right for being a… a… how do you say jerk in Mando'a? _Di'kut_?"

"That's idiot," Sabine translated. "Jerk would be _shabuir_."

"Yeah. That. Serves him right."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence and watched the Death Watch camp bustle with energy, people going to and fro.

"So," Ezra said after awhile, "we leavin' today?"

Sabine didn't turn to him but began to finger with her crimson colored cloak. "Yes."

Ezra leaned back, folding his hands underneath his head. "I never thought I'd say this," he began with a sigh, "but I'm actually gonna miss this place."

Sabine watched a group of children run along, kicking a ball between them. Something panicky began to bubble up in her chest and she knit her brows. "W-Well," she stuttered, "I mean… we'll come back. We'll visit. We can go to the camp from time to time—"

"Sabine," Ezra interrupted, laying a hand gently on her knee, stilling her words. She looked ahead as the sun rose high in the Mandalore sky. Sabine realized she had been rambling. But who could blame her? She… she was nervous. Anxious. She knew she had to go back to the Ghost crew, but… Kriff, she had gotten awfully used to being here in the Death Watch camp, with her fellow Mandalorians. The thought of leaving them forever was… was close to unthinkable. Unbearable.

 _So, I'll visit_ , Sabine thought uncertainly, trying to convince herself. _I can come back every once and awhile, say hi, catch up with Arc and Jaxon and the others. Maybe beat Luc again at Meshgeroya. Maybe play with some of the kids like I've been doing. Maybe paint some of their armor, maybe tag the Imperial base on Mandalore, maybe hold a camp-wide competition of cubikahd…_

The list went on and on in her head. Why did she have to leave? Why now? True, she was only supposed to stay a week before she moved on to the next Mandalorian planet, yet she had stayed two. It was because she couldn't bear to leave. These people, they had become her friends. Almost… almost like family. How could she leave them whenever they needed a Mand'alor to guide them?

"...It's time," a foreign voice said, breaking into Sabine's thoughts.

She looked up to see Arc standing over the two teens, hands on her hips, her blonde Padawan braid waving in the wind.

"We're leaving?" Sabine asked, dread creeping into her voice.

Arc arched an eyebrow. "Of course," she said in her slight Mandalorian accent. "You said today was the day. Remember?"

Sabine rolled to her hands and knees, stood, and dusted herself off. "How could I forget?" she muttered.

Arc proceeded to give the two teens the rundown of the situation, saying that the Death Watch had some supplies to act as "peace offerings" for the Rebellion, which needed to be loaded up.

Of course, selfless Ezra volunteered himself and Sabine to help load the stuff onto a Mandalorian starship named the _Mesh'la A'den_.

"The _Beautiful Rage_ ," Sabine translated. "Let me guess, your ship?"

Arc winked. "You know me, little cousin. We'll aim to leave by sun-high."

So it was settled. Ezra and Sabine began to load crates into the _Mesh'la A'den_ , Ezra talking all the while. Sabine absently listened, caught up in her own thoughts.

They went back and forth, engaging the anti-gravs on the weathered crates until Sabine felt sweat bead at the nape of her neck. Finally, Ezra said the magic words.

"Last one," he huffed, wiping his forehead with his sleeve as he engaged the anti-grav on a purple, beat up box.

"Good," Sabine said with a sigh as grabbed a weathered, mellow green one. "Arc has us working like slaves. Who keeps thirty-five crates of "peace offering?""

"Forty-eight," Ezra corrected with a lopsided grin. "I counted."

Sabine suddenly froze as certain voices caught her ear. "Uh… go on ahead, Ezra," she told the Padawan distractedly. "I'll catch up."

Sabine waited for her best friend to continue to get out of earshot, and then she pushed the crate aside and jogged over to a nearby tent. Peeking an amber eye between the a gap in the tent's canvas, Sabine saw people to embody the voices she had heard just a few moments ago.

"...have a problem, Kor?" Arc growled to her second-in-command.

"With your cousin?" the man shot back. "Yes."

"Well, you need to settle it and you need to settle it fast. You're coming with me to the Rebellion. I need you and Luc for negotiations."

Sabine heard Kor moan and watched him pace around the inside of the tent. "You need someone to be in charge of the Death Watch while you're with the rebels. I could-"

"I already made Jaxon temporary leader while we're gone," Arc interrupted with a wave of her hand. "I shouldn't have to argue with you about this. Clear?"

"Arc," Kor pleaded, his voice sounding uncharacteristically desperate. "Trust me, you don't want me in the same ship with that girl."

And then Sabine saw something that surprised her. Arc's voice dropped to a deadly low tone as she jammed her index finger on Kor's chestplate. "You hurt Bean," she seethed, "and I'll kill you. Now, is that clear?"

Kor didn't even flinch. A long moment of silence spanned between the two. "...Yes."

Arc slowly dropped her hand and she sighed, backing away. "I know what it's like to hold a grudge too, Kor. Trust me, it won't get you anywhere except deeper in your own grave."

Sabine saw Kor tilt his helmet away. "You know why I will never forgive her," he said, his voice sounding hoarse.

"I blamed her too, once," Arc said. "I blamed her for the deaths of my parents, and you blame her for losing your loved ones. Kor, you have to settle this. Today. Just tell her who you really are."

Sabine narrowed her eyes as she peered through the gap in the tent. _Wait… if he's not 'Kor'... then who the heck is he?_ She watched as Kor suddenly straightened.

"Korkie Kryze is dead," he announced. "He died in that fire with my wife. Me? I barely remember the guy."

Sabine's heart stopped and she slowly backed away from the tent, her hand going to her mouth.

 _Korkie Kryze._

The name raced around in her mind. Kor… Kor was Korkie. Kor was Korkie Kryze. _He found me. He found me, I'm dead._ Sabine grabbed her head as memories began to rush back.

 _Fire. Fire everywhere._

Sabine swallowed and backed up into a crate. She gripped the rim tight as a wave a vertigo pulled down at her.

 _Blinding lights. The waving of an Imperial flag. Laserfire._

"Stop," Sabine whispered. "Stop."

 _Stormtroopers shooting down the Mandalorians. Men. Women. Children._

She closed her eyes tight, not able to stop the flow of memories.

 _Ketsu, grabbing Sabine's hand and pulling her away…_

 _"Come on, little sister!" Ketsu shouted, clamping a hand on Sabine's wrist. "The Empire followed us! We have to leave, now!"_

 _Sabine bit her lip as Ketsu jerked her along. They had been on the run from the Empire for a little over a week now and Clan Kryze had been their only option._

 _And Sabine had unknowingly led the Empire right to them._

 _Fires raged around Clan Kryze's once-glorious stronghold, flames burning a brilliant orange as black smoke wafted into the sky. Screams echoed in the air as stormtroopers broke into the Mandalorians' houses, lighting up the night even more with red blasts._

 _It was a massacre._

 _Clan Kryze had been so caught up in Sabine and Ketsu's arrival, that they hadn't had any warning when the Empire arrived._

 _They were tracking me, Sabine thought to herself, horrified. I did this. I caused more death, more pain._

 _"I bring destruction wherever I go," Sabine whispered._

 _Ketsu ignored her words, continuing to pull her along. Suddenly, Sabine froze as someone let loose a guttural wail of anguish._

 _She knew that scream._

 _Sabine slowly turned to see the Clan Kryze leader, the one they called Korkie Kryze, on his hands and knees before a house engulfed in flames. His clothes were charred and even from where Sabine stood, she could see the terrible burns on his hands and neck. He looked at her and she met his crystal blue eyes, tears streaming down his face._

 _"You did this!" he screamed at her, trying to get to his feet but collapsing from the damage of the fire. "I let you into our home and you led them right to us! You're a traitor, Sabine Wren! You killed her!"_

 _Sabine could feel her eyes watering and her heartbeat race. She knew who he was talking about. Lagos. Korkie's pregnant wife._

 _She was still in the house._

 _She was dead._

 _Sabine felt her knees get weak, but for some reason, they didn't buckle like they would have a week ago. Instead, as if her legs had a mind of their own, she turned and began to run. Run. Run away from it all._

 _And Sabine never looked back._

"Ezra!" Sabine yelled, beginning to run towards the _Mesh'la A'den_ on wobbly legs. "Ezra!"

The black-haired Padawan noticed her and Sabine saw his brows knit with concern. "Sabine?"

"We need to leave," she gasped, breathless, her heart hammering in her chest.

Ezra was still clueless. "I… know. That's what I'm doing. We're loading up the last of the crates now-"

"You don't understand," Sabine said and her eyes darted around. "We have to leave now. He's gonna kill me-"

Ezra suddenly grabbed both of her arms and placed himself in front of her. "Sabine," he said sternly. "Slow down. What's wrong?"

Sabine stared at Ezra. How could she explain? What could she say? After all these years, Korkie Kryze had finally found her. Or rather, she had found him.

He was responsible for putting the traitor's brand to her name, making her an outcast among other Mandalorians… _Ha._ As if her name needed to be stained even more after her direct involvement in Mandalore's enslavement.

"Sabine Wren."

Sabine froze and slowly turned around. Kor-or rather, Korkie Kryze-stood before her… helmet finally off.

His familiar face appeared more ghostly than the last time they had met face-to-face, his cheeks sunken in and his fair skin even paler. Korkie Kryze's light blonde hair was streaked with gray, a noticeable sign of his increasing age, and slight wrinkles had appeared around his eyes that hadn't been there four years ago.

Sabine also noticed thin, faint, pink scars stretching at his jawline, the rest being hidden by the collar of his Mandalorian body stocking. And they weren't just scars. They were burns. An everyday reminder of Sabine's "treachery."

And the wife and unborn child he hadn't been able to save.

* * *

Korkie Kryze looked at Wren with untinted vision, cradling his helmet in one hand. It had been four years since he had last seen the girl. And now? ...Well, she wasn't much of a girl anymore. Wren had gotten a little taller and had completely grown into her lean frame. Her hair wasn't brown anymore, but a striking shade of white and purple. Her once-round face had lost all baby fat and anything that resembled a child. But she still had the same amber eyes. The same piercing, hard, wary eyes that spat a warning sign to Kor. At least that part of Sabine Wren hadn't changed.

Kor could hear Arc come up behind him and he glanced over at her, his gaze softening. He had developed a father-and-daughter like relationship with the young woman, ever since he had joined the Death Watch shortly after the eradication of Clan Kryze. Arc was his leader. But also the child he never had. And both sides of the same person were coming out in her. She wanted him to settle his grudge with Sabine Wren. Korkie knew she did.

But then Kor looked back to Sabine. Sabine Wren. Just the very name made him want to spit in anger. Korkie inhaled slowly. He wanted the girl dead. He wanted her dead _so bad._

"So, Korkie Kryze," the girl said suddenly, surprising him. Her amber eyes still looked like they were carved from steel. "What will it be? A fight to the death? A duel to avenge your Clan?"

Kor stared down at Sabine Wren. She was goading him on. Why?

 _She can't deal with the guilt any more than I can,_ Korkie realized suddenly. _She wants this. Just as much as I do._

"Neither," Kor said eventually. And it must have been the hardest word he ever had to say. "I'm being torn apart," he continued in a hoarse whisper. "But I will not fight you. For you are the Mand'alor and I've sworn to follow you."

Sabine Wren's hard amber eyes widened. "No," she growled through clenched teeth. "No, you don't mean it. You know you want to fight me. Do it!"

Kor laughed a bitter, cold laugh. "Oh, how our positions have changed," he said with sour amusement. "I do want to fight you, Sabine Wren. And kill you. What you've done is unforgivable."

He watched as she looked to the ground. "I didn't know the Empire was following me," she whispered. "It was an accident."

"Your accident," Kor snarled, "cost the lives of my entire family. Everyone I'm related to, any legacy I would hope to leave, wiped out. Murdered. Massacred."

He watched as the girl before him flinched, seeming to cave before him. Kor took a step closer. "You left us, Sabine Wren. In Clan Kryze's darkest hour, after we opened our homes to you, you didn't stand with us. You ran. Like a coward."

Before Korkie could take another step closer, someone stepped in between himself and Wren. It was her companion, the one she called Ezra.

"Back off!" the boy snarled, pushing Kor away. "I don't know what you think Sabine did, but she's not a coward. And even if she did leave before, she's here now. Don't you see? Sabine didn't kill off Clan Kryze; the Empire did. And she's trying to stop them! We all are."

Korkie gritted his teeth. He wanted to rear back and slap the boy for interfering with Mandalorian business. But… maybe he had a point.

 _I swore I would avenge Lagos,_ he reminded himself. _I swore it. And as a Mandalorian, my word is my bond_.

But he also swore to Arc. He swore to follow her as his leader, until death do them part. And Arc had sided with Mand'alor the Free.

 _Why is this so difficult?_

Kor closed his eyes, remembering his wife's face. Her blonde hair, her striking blue eyes, her kind face, her sweet smile, her beautiful laugh. All of that was gone. Gone forever. Sabine Wren had led the Empire right to them and even then… she had a chance to help fight. But the girl had run like a coward. Away from her mistake, away from the screams and echoes of the dying, away from the fire, away from the once-proud Clan Kryze.

 _How can I ever forgive her of that?_ Kor thought despairingly.

As if Sabine Wren could read his thoughts, she put her hand on her companion's shoulder and stepped out behind him. "Korkie Kryze," she said slowly. "I didn't know the Empire was following us, I swear. But every day, what happened with your clan haunts me. I've never forgotten my mistake. But I'm here to fix it now. I'm through with running. I came back. And I swear I'll do whatever it takes to regain some shred of trust from you."

Korkie hesitated, knowing his next words would mean everything. "...If Arc gave a murderous band of hooligans like the Death Watch a second chance…" Kor said and swallowed, almost hating the next sentence that came out of his mouth."Then… Then you should get one as well."

Korkie forced himself to think about all those years of brooding and planning his revenge, of venting his rage to anyone who was listening, of flipping tables and throwing chairs in raw anger, of curling up in the corner of a room and weeping, weeping for a wife that would never come home and an infant son he would never hold in his hands.

 _I'm done letting vengeance consume me_ , Korkie told himself, letting all of it go. Everything. Lagos was indeed gone, and no amount of killing and ranting would bring her back. Korkie might never have a child of his own blood… but wasn't family more than bloodline?

Korkie looked over at Arc Wren. They were almost eye-level. Although Arc was his leader... she was also, in a way, the daughter Kor would never have. And how many times had he raved to her about his hate of her cousin? How many times had he unknowingly pushed Arc into agreeing with him?

 _I shouldn't have influenced her like that,_ Kor thought to himself guiltily. _I only made her trust issues even worse._ How come he hadn't been able to see it?

Kor knew Arc had hated on Sabine for years, and he had encouraged it. But now, somehow, Arc had managed to see the situation with new eyes, to let her cousin back into her heart... And if a messed up kid like Arc had been able to forgive Sabine, how could Kor _not_ do the same?

Korkie looked back at Sabine Wren. Although she was little more than a child, Kor saw a glimpse of something deeper. The way her steely amber eyes flashed with compassion, and her brows relax ever so slightly. Kor noticed the way her shoulders were held straight back and her stance was dominant. Imposing.

Korkie saw a leader.

Suddenly feeling ashamed of his unloyal ways, Kor fell to his knees. "Forgive me Mand'alor," he said, head bowed. "I swear my life and my liberty to you. May the _manda_ look upon this oath and honor it."

Kor looked up at the girl as he breathed the last words.

" _Par kote bal ijaat,_ " Korkie Kryze breathed in Mando'a, " _be Mand'alor._ "

Mand'alor the Free nodded once, a corner of her lip tugging upwards in a smile. Kor rose and glanced over at Arc. The young woman was beaming with excitement and she finally rushed forward, tackling Korkie in a hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Kor," she whispered, her lean arms clamped around his sides.

Korkie Kryze suddenly felt uncharacteristically happy, a drastic change. He hugged Arc back. "Thanks, kiddo," he whispered, an inkling of a smile spreading across his lips.

If this was what it was like to change… then Kor was going to adjust just fine.

* * *

Sabine walked into the _Mesh'la A'den_ , her helmet under her arm. She could see Arc sitting at the controls, prepping for liftoff, getting ready to leave for Chopper Base. And Luc was just in front of Sabine, keying something into his gauntlet.

And then there was Kor.

He had his helmet under one arm and a bag under the other. Ever since pledging his loyalty to Sabine only a few hours ago, Kor had been acting like a new person. Or, rather, like the Korkie Kryze Sabine had been welcomed by all those years ago.

She knew it would take Kor a while to warm up to her, but she would be okay with that. Because he was giving her a second chance. And she wouldn't make him regret it.

"Would you get your boyfriend on, Bean?" Arc snapped, interrupting her thoughts. Sabine looked over to see the Death Watch leader fingering with the yoke. "We've gotta get moving."

Sabine smiled at Arc's aggravation and looked out of the _Mesh'la A'den_ to see Ezra, surrounded by little Mandalorians. Kids of all ages were poking him, prodding him, and bugging him about when he would return.

Sabine smiled wider. Ezra had become wildly popular with the Death Watch children. They loved him and ever since Sabine and Ezra had played Meshgeroya, the kids continued to beg Ezra to play with them.

"Ezra!" Sabine called, thumping the _Mesh'la A'den's_ hull. "We're leaving!"

The boy glanced up and started for her, but the children protested loudly.

Chopper's voice suddenly broke in, and Sabine picked up her communicator. "This is Specter 5," she said. "Go ahead Specter 3."

Chopper grumpily beeped out a series of binary words, clearly complaining.

"I told you, Chop. You have to pilot the _Phantom II_ so we can return it to Hera."

Chopper mournfully beeped another set of binary.

"You can't do it from this ship!" Sabine exclaimed. "Your know good and well your connection can't maintain through hyperspace."

Chopper let out a mechanical huff, muttering in droid-speak.

Sabine paused. "Why do you want to ride over here so badly, anyway?" she asked and paused again, smiling slyly. "Is it because you miss me?"

Chopper beeped exclamatorily, denying it.

"C'mon," Sabine teased, "don't lie…"

"Bean!" Arc interrupted again angrily. "Tell Ezra to get the kriff on here!"

Sabine turned to see the teen still outside, surrounded by a sea of children. He was trying to wade past them, but the kids kept coming.

"Ezra!" Sabine shouted, repeating Arc's words. "Get the kriff on here!"

"Okay!" came Ezra's strained reply. He finally pushed through the last wave of children and bounded up the Mesh'la A'den's ramp. "Go, go, go!" he yelled.

Sabine hurriedly pushed the button on the ship's insides and the ramp slowly closed.

"Bye!" one child shouted gleefully.

"Goodbye!" yelled another.

"We love you, _areutii_!" a kid called.

Ezra poked his head out from the closing ramp, not knowing that he'd just been thrown an insult. "Love you guys too!"

"Goodbye, Mand'alor!" the children and adults shouted together and even as the ramp closed, Sabine could still hear their cries of affection and love.

 _Goodbye, Death Watch,_ Sabine thought finally, smiling sadly.

Arc brought the Mesh'la A'den off the ground and they rocketed into the air and out of Mandalorian atmosphere. Sabine watched as her cousin clicked a button, putting the ship on autopilot.

"So," Arc said as she stood from the controls. "Where to, Mand'alor the Free?"

Sabine eased herself into the pilot's seat and Ezra took co-pilot. "The Rebellion, dear cousin," she said, almost teasingly. "The Rebellion."

Sabine checked a few more buttons, entered the coordinates into the starship, and commandeered it up and out. As the _Mesh'la A'den_ exited Mandalore's atmosphere, Sabine eased the hyperspace lever forward.

With the stars lengthened around them and the black sky of space beginning to disappear, Sabine could just hear Ezra breath, "Atollon… here we come."

 **Let me hear a "PLOT TWIST!"**

 **Anyone see the Kor = Korkie coming? Review about it!** **The next chapter will be called The Last Test... but don't worry, it's not the last chapter. Not by far ;) Anyways, every follow, fav, and kind OR critical word means a lot to me. Thanks for sticking with me, peoples!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	9. Chapter 9: E Chu Ta

**C'mon guys stop telling everyone I'm dead.**

 **Specter7 here and I have heard your pleas! I have come down from on high to deliver you this glorious, super long chapter. Soooo there's no good reason this is so late, except that I've been stupid busy with school and all the problems that come with it. Anyways! On with the 10,000+ word chapter!**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 9: E Chu Ta

* * *

"Named must your fear be before banish it you can."

- _Yoda_

* * *

Ezra fingered with the co-pilot's seat's stuffing, totally bored. They were going on their second day in hyperspace. Who knew stuck in an enclosed space with Luc could be so completely… agonizing?

Ezra, Sabine, Arc, Kor, and Luc had been holed up in the _Mesh'la A'den_ for a while now, on their way to the Rebellion. Ezra didn't even really know why they were going back.

...Well, take the back. Ezra _did_ know why they had to go back to the Rebellion; to persuade Arc to participate in the final attack on Lothal's factories. That was the objective. That was why he and Sabine had journeyed all the way out to the Death Watch; to convince Mandalorian warriors to fight for the Rebellion. Ezra guessed he had kind of gotten caught up with the craziness of Sabine becoming the Mand'alor. The objective had… admittedly changed form since Sabine had declared herself the sole ruler. _Now,_ the objective had become; rally the Mandalorians to follow Mand'alor the Free and take back Mandalore.

 _Too much Mando stuff,_ Ezra thought privately. _I wonder how Hera is going to take all of this._

Ezra swiveled in his seat and looked back at the other passengers for what must have been the fiftieth time that hour. Kor was still absently cleaning his helmet, although it had started shining thirty minutes ago. Arc and Luc were playing that weird Mando game—cuhbikahd or something—but by hologram, projected from Luc's gauntlet.

Ezra turned back to his co-pilot's seat and fingered with the stuffing again. He had absently, accidently, tore a hole in the armrest and now the fluffy white stuffing poured out, granting Ezra with momentary entertainment.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. His and Sabine's trip had been a good one, and Ezra was relieved it wasn't over just yet. Some of Ezra's favorite missions were the ones that were just he and Sabine was on. Of course, on all those missions, Chopper acted like the grumpy chaperone, making sure the two youngest members of the _Ghost_ crew didn't get into any trouble.

Ezra smiled slightly. _But trouble sure had a way of finding us,_ he thought to himself.

The Padawan looked at the girl again and closed his eyes, sending a tendril of Force energy out. He could sense Sabine as if he could see her. That was how strong her Force-signature was. It was bold and strong, yet… warm and expressive. Her signature was entrancing. Intoxicating. It dared Ezra to get lost in its warm, bright depths.

" _Ezra_."

The teen's eyes snapped open to see Sabine glaring at him. "What?"

"Stop _doing_ that," she whispered, her voice low. "You look like you're asleep on your feet."

Ezra glanced around self-consciously at their companions. When none of the Mandalorians seemed to be paying any attention to him, he turned back to Sabine.

"Meditating is going to be the least of your worries," Ezra said, his voice low. "When they get to Chopper Base and see Kanan blind and all..."

Sabine gripped the steering yoke tighter. "I know."

Ezra paused. Their Mandalorian passengers were bound to flip once they realized Kanan was a Jedi. And if they pulled out their blasters… Well, Ezra wasn't just going to stand by and watch. "So what are you going to do?" He asked.

Ezra watched as the young Mand'alor bit her lip. "I'm still figuring that out."

"Hey!" Arc hollered, interrupting their conversation cheekily. "Isn't there some Mandalorian proverb about not keeping secrets?"

Ezra swiveled in his chair to see Sabine's cousin arching an eyebrow from where she sat cross-legged on the _Mesh'la A'den_ 's metal flooring.

"Isn't there a Mandalorian proverb about minding your own business?" Sabine shot back.

Arc turned back to her holographic Mando game with a shrug. "Just throwing it out there, little cousin," she said, before keying something into her own gauntlet and the game automatically moved her piece. "You two have been whispering an awful lot."

Ezra watched Sabine's lips twist and her brows furrowed. She instantly rolled a knob off of the console and threw at Arc, hitting the Death Watch leader in the back of the neck.

Arc rubbed the spot, sending a murderous glare at Sabine, before Sabine simply turned back to the yoke. Ezra gave a lopsided grin as he heard Arc mutter a string of Mando'a curses.

As Ezra continued to look at Arc his smile faded and his happy mood along with it. The Death Watch leader had a thin, long, blonde braid on the right side of her head. Which was weird, since the rest of Arc's hair was dark brown. As soon as he had met the lady, he had known exactly what that braid was.

It was a Padawan braid.

Kanan had told him of those, how it represented a Jedi learner's apprenticeship. Back in the day, before the Empire, Kanan had said that all Padawans were required to have it. Ezra had once even played with the idea, plaiting his hair in a thin band a while ago, when he'd had his hair long. But Zeb had made fun of the braid so Ezra had dismantled it.

But Ezra was a Padawan. He had a _reason_ to wear it. So why did Arc have one too?

Ezra glanced at Sabine, brushing her mind again with the Force. She obviously felt it and glanced over, opening her mouth to lecture him about how she didn't like it, when Ezra sent her a mental picture of the blonde braid.

He didn't have to say anything else.

Sabine seemed to grow solemn with understanding and she sighed. "She killed a Padawan, Ezra," Sabine breathed, her voice tinged with regret. "It's… It's a trophy."

Ezra swallowed hard. He had figured as much. He wasn't stupid. But… but why? He shook his head bitterly. …Of course. Mandalorians. All they did was kill. They killed for fun. Why would Arc be any different?

"War, blood, and battle," Ezra breathed hoarsely. "It's what makes a Mandalorian a Mandal—"

"—Don't," Sabine interrupted, her voice dangerously low. "You can't judge an entire race by the acts of one."

Ezra looked up at the girl. "…Why not?" he said slowly, anger starting to burn at the pit of his stomach. "Your people did it to mine. Aren't you Mandos still hating us for something that happened thousands of years ago?"

Sabine slammed her fist on the console. "Kriff, Ezra! We're _not_ our—" she suddenly cut herself off and Ezra realized that the rest of the passengers were staring at them.

Finally, Arc broke the silence. "Well, don't mind us," the Death Watch leader said, turning back to her game. "Continue on with your argument."

Ezra could feel the waves of aggravation coming off of Sabine, blotting out everything—even Arc's smug attitude. Sabine suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him across the room and into the ship's hallway, the automatic door sliding shut.

"We are _not_ our ancestors," Sabine said finally, free from the prying ears of Arc. "I'm sick of this Jedi-Mandalorian stuff."

Ezra threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. "Me too!"

Sabine put her hands on her hips. "Look who's talking, Mister War-Blood-and-Battle!"

Ezra's mouth dropped. "Seriously? You have _no_ room, Miss My-Mom-Doesn't-trust-Jedi-and-I-Don't-Either."

Sabine clenched her jaw, moaning through her teeth. "I _said_ I was sorry!"

Ezra pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. He swallowed the bitter words that were threatening to come out and breathed evenly. Mandalorians were so crinking violent! Why couldn't they just negotiate instead of killing their enemies? What would galaxy-wide conquest bring?

But then Ezra looked at Sabine again. She didn't fit into the category of what he thought Mandalorians should act like. Yeah, she was aggressive, and fearless, and a _way_ better shot than him… But Sabine acted so… so… _humane._ Sure, she loved a good firefight, but she wasn't _bloodthirsty._ Yeah, she took pride in her heritage, but she resented that her people couldn't stop fighting each other.

And if Sabine didn't fit into stereotypical Mandalorian category, maybe the rest of the Mandalorians didn't. Ezra _had_ to at least give them a chance.

"Look," Ezra began eventually, his voice strained. "Let's just… Just forget about what our people did before us, okay? Whatever your mom said, whatever Kanan told me, it doesn't matter. We make our own destinies."

He watched as Sabine hesitated, nodding mutely. "You're right," she said eventually. "' _Make our own destinies.'_ That's why I don't give a kriff about your Force, Ezra. I don't want to be tied down by something that says my fate is already decided."

Ezra slowly shook his head. This again. "That's not how the Force works, Sabine," he said evenly. "Having the Force guide your footsteps isn't the same as sealing your fate-"

"-I don't want any of it," Sabine interrupted fiercely. "I don't need it, and I _sure_ don't trust it."

Ezra groaned mentally. Why did she have to be so stubborn? "We _all_ need the Force," Ezra growled. "Whether we like it or not. The Force is in everyone. It binds the entire galaxy together! Shouldn't you be _happy_ it's decided to honor you by guiding your journey?"

"No!" Sabine yelled angrily, moving closer to him. "Everything I've done up until this point has been because of _me._ I don't need your Force. You have it and that's great and all, but I'm fine on my own."

Ezra was about to continue their argument when a jolt suddenly rattled the _Mesh'la A'den_ , interrupting their heated conversation.

He was thrown against Sabine and the two crashed into the wall as the ship shook violently. Ezra's head banged into the metal hallway and Sabine's breath tickled his left ear. He couldn't help grinning at their situation, considering he was nearly embracing the Mandalorian as gravity hammered him.

"We've jumped out of hyperspace," Sabine mumbled from under him.

Ezra moved to get off of her when the ship shook again and slammed him sideways. Ezra's hands grappled for Sabine as he was thrown completely off-kilter, but Sabine only pushed him out of her way and ran down the hallway, sliding as the _Mesh'la A'den_ tilted from right to left.

"What's wrong?" Sabine yelled to the other passengers and Ezra hurried after her. "Are we under attack?"

Ezra poked his head out the hallway just in time to hear Luc reply; "Only from Arc's horrendous piloting skills."

Ezra looked to see Sabine's cousin at the controls, steering the ship shakily. Ezra glanced over at Sabine to see her huff, and he knew they were thinking the same thing. Arc had come out of hyperspace badly on purpose, trying to interrupt their argument.

"Hey, Bean!" Arc hollered to them and yanking the yoke around again, causing the passengers to nearly fall over themselves. "I'd make quite the rebel pilot, eh?"

As Ezra watched the goofy Mando play around with the ship, not even listening as Sabine scolded her, he wondered how someone like Arc could be so dangerous as to kill a Padawan. Or earn that impressive scar on her face.

 _I guess looks can be deceiving,_ Ezra decided, watching as Sabine took the controls again and began to fly towards Atollon. _After all, they haven't figured out I'm a Jedi yet._

Yet the thought of Kanan, blind, with his lightsaber on his hip came to mind.

 _But they are going to figure that out_ real _soon._

* * *

Ezra was the first to walk out and as his feet hit the sandy ground of Atollon, he smiled. Finally, no freezing cold wind chilling him to his bones. No muddied snow staining his boots and clothes. No numb fingers and shivery hands.

 _But,_ Ezra added mentally, _no cute little Death Watch kids to play with either. No thrilling, exciting games of bolo-ball. No challenging, adrenaline-rushing spars to look forward to… Wow… I've been home for two seconds and I already miss Mandalore._

The feeling was definitely strange to Ezra, but as he spotted Hera ahead of him, his face broke out with another smile. However much fun he had had at Death Watch, the _Ghost_ crew would always be his family.

He jogged up to Hera. "Did you miss us?" Ezra asked with a lopsided grin.

The green Twi'lek smiled back, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Of course. It's been far too quiet without the two of you."

Ezra rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah…" he began hesitantly, "it's about to get a whole lot louder. We… kinda picked up a few extra passengers."

Ezra watched as Hera got The Look on her face. She arched a jet-black eyebrow cautiously, and her tone got that no-nonsense sound to it.

"And how many passengers," Hera deadpanned, "is "a few"?"

Ezra looked up at her, cringing on the inside as he delivered the next words. "Heh… Uh, three other Mandalorians? Not including Sabine. Or… Rau. If he's here."

Hera groaned. "We're being overrun," she muttered, seeming to be half-kidding and… half really not.

Ezra hesitated, wondering how to word the next words. "Hera, these Mandos," he began slowly, "they didn't come for a friendly-get-together. It's… It's pretty serious."

Ezra watched Hera's face grow somber. "How serious?"

"A Mandalorian group called the Death Watch is considering joining the Rebellion."

Hera looked shocked. She was silent for a whole moment. Then two. Then three. And then: "Okay."

Ezra was surprised at the simple word and watched as Hera straightened, pushed her shoulders back and nodded once. "I'll alert Commander Sato for an immediate meeting."

She turned to go, but Ezra stopped her. "Hera," he said hesitantly. There was something just as momentous that Hera should _really_ be concerned about. "That's not all. Sabine… might've sorta become the sole ruler of her people."

This time, Hera really _was_ shocked. " _What?_ "

Ezra rubbed the back of his neck again. "I can't really explain it that well. She challenged her cousin to a duel to the death and ended up winning. So… now she's the leader of all Mandos."

Hera stared hard at him. "Ezra Bridger, if this is some kind of prank…"

"It's not!" Ezra exclaimed. "I'm serious! Sabine goes by Mand'alor the Free now and everyone has to bow when they see her and—"

Hera sighed, interrupting him, and moved past him towards the Mandalorian ship. "I don't have time with this," she muttered as she walked.

Ezra's mouth dropped as he watched her go. _Seriously?_ She didn't believe him! _I am insulted,_ Ezra thought indignantly.

He glanced up to see Luc, Kor, and Arc, walking down the _Mesh'la A'den_ 's ramp, one behind the other. All three Mandos examined Atollon curiously, two pairs of baby blue eyes flicking about along with one piercing green. Each Mando had their dusky-colored, weathered, dark green helmets under their arms, looking all tough and important. But they all instantly parted as Sabine walked down the ramp and between them, her crimson cloak billowing as she went.

Ezra could sense Hera's surprise, but she masked it well as the Mandalorians came up to them. Luc had his hands behind his back, looking mildly interested in their base. Kor rested one hand on his blaster casually, and the other hand gripped his helmet tightly. And Arc… Arc's stance was confident and erect, nearly aggressive. Her back couldn't have been any straighter if Ezra had duraglued a rod to it. Everything about the Death Watch leader screamed danger.

It was odd, how one moment; Arc could be a big goof, acting like a total fool, completely content with her own idiocy and blissful in spite of her ignorance. And then the next, she was a tall, impending, ominous-looking ruler of a band of assassins.

Ezra watched as Hera contained herself and he was impressed with the fact that the Twi'lek didn't flinch away from Arc. Hera looked to Sabine, smiling dryly.

"Sabine," Hera greeted emotionlessly.

"Captain Syndulla," Sabine said with a nod. "I would like to introduce you to Luc Tenau." Sabine gestured to the blonde Mandalorian and he nodded slightly. "Korkie Kryze." Sabine gestured to the second-in command and he lifted his head up a fraction of an inch, hardly acknowledging Hera. "And, my cousin, Arc Wren. She is the leader of the Death Watch and is here to talk negotiations of their alignment with the Rebellion."

Sabine didn't need to gesture to Arc, for the young woman walked forward, jutting her chin out. "Are you the leader of this rebel cell?" she asked straightforwardly.

Ezra watched as Hera's face remained impassive. "No, but I am the leader for this cell's squadron. I can bring you to our commanding officer."

Arc nodded once. "Lead the way, Captain Syndulla. But first, I'd ask that you would get someone to unload my ship. We have supplies for your rebellion. Call it a … peace offering, if you will."

"We are grateful," Hera replied diplomatically. "And I'll see to it." She turned and began to walk away towards the center of the camp. "This way."

Ezra watched them go and fell back to be in line with Sabine. "How'd she take it?" the young Mand'alor asked quietly.

Ezra huffed, remembering Hera's words. "She didn't believe me," he answered. "But I guess you becoming the sole ruler of your people is a pretty hard thing to swallow."

Sabine snorted. "Tell me about it. I can hardly believe it myself."

Ezra hesitated. He'd had a question he'd been meaning to ask Sabine, but he hadn't known exactly how to word it. "About that," Ezra began slowly, "I thought since you're the new Mand'alor, Arc and the others _have_ to join the Rebellion. …Right? 'Cause, didn't you say that one of your Mando rules is that your people have to rally to the Mand'alor's cause?"

Sabine glanced over at him, seeming to hesitate. "It's… complicated, Ezra. Yes, according to the _Resol'nare_ , all Mandalorians must rally to the Mand'alor, _or_ try their hardest to get someone else in that position. But the whole purpose of the Mand'alor is to protect the Mandalorian culture. To "protect our own," as my mother would say. Yet the Rebellion fights for the freedom of the entire galaxy: not just the Mandalorian race. So everyone who wants to follow me, doesn't _have_ to pledge allegiance to the Rebellion, because it doesn't benefit only Mandalore… Do you understand?"

Ezra looked at her, his brain trying to catch up to Sabine's words. "So," he said as his mind worked furiously. "The Death Watch doesn't _have_ to join the Rebellion?"

"Right," Sabine clarified. "Because it doesn't benefit Mandalore. I can't order them to."

"So," Ezra continued, finally beginning to get it, "Arc coming here with peace offerings is a really good thing for the Rebellion."

"Yes," Sabine answered with a slight smile. "It means she's willing to align the Death Watch and all of House Caladon with Chopper Base and our rebel cell. If this works, we could make the Rebellion's ranks be several thousand troops stronger."

"And they're not just any troops," Ezra added with a grin, beginning to get excited, "they're Mandalorian troops."

"And not just any Mandalorian troops," Sabine double-added, playing off of Ezra, "they're Death Watch Mandalorian troops. Vicious, great shots, and bred for battle. If Hera can get Arc on board, the Empire won't stand a chance."

Ezra gave Sabine a lopsided grin. He was thrilled! Sure, he might hate Luc something fierce, but if his presence along with Arc and Kor was what it took to grow the Rebellion; he would embrace it with open arms. _This_ was what they'd been waiting for! A chance to make a _true_ difference. With Sabine, Mand'alor the Free, at the helm of it all.

Ezra was bored to death.

Despite his earlier hype, Ezra's eyes glazed over as Commander Sato began to monologue after the standard pleasantries had been exchanged with Arc.

Treaty meetings like these always got dull. That's why Ezra was usually never invited to them. That, and because he usually ended up jumping across the missions' debriefing table in the rare event that things got heated.

 _I don't know how Bail Organa does it,_ Ezra thought to himself, tapping his foot impatiently. _Those Senate meetings would drive me crazy._

Ezra cast a quick glance around to see everyone slowly disperse as the meeting dragged on, the early excitement of the Mandalorian visitors long gone.

"So," a foreign voice said suddenly. " _This_ is the base you've been bragging on for the past two weeks?"

Ezra glanced over to see Luc, and he frowned. "Yeah, it is," he growled. "If you wanna take a look around, I can toss you over the sensor line and feed you to the spiders. How's that sound?"

"Like a terrible attempt at a comeback," Luc shot.

Ezra's nose wrinkled in a snarl. "As if you could do any better," he snorted in disbelief.

"Kid," Luc said slowly, as if he was talking to someone much younger. "You _cannot_ tell me you like living here. It's hot, dry, unpleasant, and crawling with krykna. _And_ the only thing keeping them away are little sticks in the ground!"

Ezra opened his mouth to snap back a retort about how living in a wasteland like Mandalore was even worse… when something caught his eye.

"Kanan?" Ezra murmured.

Luc frowned. "What?"

Ezra glanced over at the Mando distractedly. "Uh… n-nothing. Go insult someone else for a while. I'll be right back."

As Ezra was walking away, Luc exclaimed, " _Excuse_ me?"

The Padawan ignored him and jogged to the end of the clearing to see Kanan, Zeb, and Fenn Rau. "Kanan!" Ezra whispered furiously.

"Ezra?" the blind Jedi called as he stopped. "Is that you?"

"It's him," Zeb supplied gruffly. "And the kid returned in one piece." Ezra watched as Zeb leaned closer, narrowing his green, glossy eyes, the black pupils shrinking. "Sabine was actually right," the Lasat muttered. "Different outcome from Malachor."

"Well," Ezra replied gravely, "our journey isn't over yet. Sabine and me still have a long way to go. We're really close to recruiting a Mandalorian group called the Death Watch but—"

"—Wait," Fenn Rau interrupted, his eyebrows raised, "she actually managed that?"

Ezra nodded, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "Yeah. Sato and Hera are negotiating the leader's recruitment now."

Rau's eyes bugged and he took a step closer to Ezra. " _Here?_ " he whispered furiously.

Ezra frowned slightly. What was wrong now? "…Yes," he answered slowly.

Rau shook his head violently and bounced the dark blue helmet under his arm nervously. "What was Sabine thinking?" Rau murmured to himself and pushed past Ezra.

The Padawan narrowed his eyes at the man. "Sabine did a great thing," he said defensively. "She got the _Death Watch_ leader to join _our_ Rebellion. Well, a-almost."

Rau glanced at Ezra over his armored shoulder. "I have no doubt it took an act of heroism to accomplish that feat," Rau growled, "but there is a thin line between heroism and foolishness."

Ezra gritted his teeth as he watched Rau walk away and moved to follow him, yet a strong hand pulled him back.

"Let him go, Ezra," Kanan said in a quiet order.

Ezra took in a leveled breath and turned to his master.

"Now," Kanan continued. "Tell me what's bothering you."

With a glance at Zeb, Ezra hesitated briefly. He finally shrugged mentally. Why not?

So Ezra filled Kanan and Zeb in on the recent events and how Sabine had become the new Mand'alor, the sole ruler of her people. He also told them of how Sabine had brought three Mandalorians along with her, and how they had a murderous hate of Jedi.

"No _way_ we're letting them see you, Chief," Zeb said to Kanan in his deep, growling voice.

"Hiding who we are is underhanded," Kanan countered, turning his masked face to his Padawan. "And you can't keep your identity a secret forever, Ezra."

Ezra twitched impatiently. "I know. But for now, I don't want the Mandalorians to see you, Kanan. They don't know I'm a Jedi and I want to keep it that way."

It was a long moment before Kanan replied. "…Alright," he relented. "But you can't keep the truth hidden. It… has a way of revealing itself."

Ezra looked away. "I know."

Even though Kanan had his mask on, Ezra could feel his piercing stare through it. "What else?" Kanan said finally.

Ezra glanced at him before shaking his head angrily. "It's… nothing." Kanan would never understand anyway.

"Ezra," Kanan demanded.

Ezra stayed silent for a few moments longer, crossing his arms hard. Until finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "It's Sabine!" Ezra exploded. "She's so stubborn!"

Zeb had his hands on his hips, looking unamused. "That's a Mandalorian for ya," he rumbled.

"No," Ezra said, shaking his head. "This is different. She wants to recruit a couple clans to the Rebellion and be done with it, but it's more than that. She doesn't see herself as the leader she could be, I _know_ it. And she's doesn't see how the Force is guiding her footsteps... a-and she doesn't know why."

Kanan didn't reply but Zeb did. "And this your business how…?" he growled.

Ezra stomped his foot. "Zeb!" he complained.

Kanan put a hand on the big guy's shoulder. "Why don't you meet us back at the mission briefing table?" Kanan suggested.

Zeb gave an animal-like snort and began to shuffle off. "Just trying to help," he grumbled.

Ezra watched him go, staying silent.

"You know he's partly right," Kanan said suddenly. "I know you're concerned about Sabine, but you can't change what she's convinced herself of."

Ezra turned to face him. "But I could," he countered, "if I knew how. If I only knew how to explain the Force the right way to her-"

"Ezra," Kanan interrupted sternly. "You're not all-powerful. You're not going to have all the answers. Sometimes you just have to trust that everything is going to work itself out."

Ezra looked away, glaring at the ground. _I know I'm not all-powerful,_ Ezra spat mentally. _Because if I was, I'd be able to actually_ help _Sabine! Not be a third wheel in her Mando journey._

"I _know_ I don't have the answers," Ezra said aloud, looking back to Kanan. "That's why I came to you! You convinced me of my importance in the galaxy, and my place in the Force. Maybe you can convince her too."

Kanan sighed and put a hand on his hip. "If this is _really_ what's bothering you," he said slowly, "then I can't help you. My advice would be to trust in the Force and let it to continue to guide her path." Kanan paused. "But that's not what you wanted to hear, is it?"

"I wanted to hear answers," Ezra shot back. "I have to help Sabine. So if you don't know what to do, then I'll go to someone who _does._ "

Kanan tilted his head, and Ezra could sense the slight aggravation coming off of him. "Really," he growled. "And who's that?"

But Ezra's mind was already way ahead. He knew someone who would have the answers he seeked. Someone whose brain was a library of mysterious knowledge and riddles.

Ezra cast one angry glance back at his master. "You're smart," he muttered. "Figure it out."

Ezra left before Kanan could reply, and walking to the very edge of Chopper Base. And he didn't forget to grab a sensor marker on his way out.

* * *

Sabine listened silently as Arc and Sato went back and forth in their polite but intense debate. Arc had never been big on politeness, so Sabine half-wondered how long the state would last.

She didn't know much time had passed when Hera finally put a gentle hand on her shoulder a motioned her from the meeting.

"Come on," the Twi'lek said quietly.

Sabine hesitated and went to Arc's side. "You don't need me here, do you?"

Arc's dark green eyes passed from Sabine to Hera and she looked back at Sato distractedly. "No, it's fine," she said. "You go talk. We're almost done here."

Commander Sato only straitened and arched an eyebrow. "I highly doubt that," he said dryly.

Sabine watched as Arc smiled sweetly before continuing her list of demands. Sabine only shook her head and walked back to Hera.

Her mentor gave Sabine an enduring smile and gestured her forward. "Come help me unload supplies, will ya? You can tell me all about your journey then."

So Sabine did. At first, her words were slow and calculated, internally scrutinizing what she would and wouldn't tell Hera. But soon, it all just poured out. Sabine confided in the Twi'lek about her own difficulties in becoming the Mand'alor, outwardly and internally. Part of Sabine was still convinced she couldn't do it. Be the sole ruler of her people. Sabine felt as if it were all a dream-or a nightmare, really. Like she was walking around in another person's body.

The Sabine Wren she knew couldn't be the Mand'alor. There was no possible way. The Sabine she saw in the mirror was cold and distant. And rebellious. And a loner. An outcast. Who had the stupidity to follow _her?_

 _It's like they're looking at someone else when the see me,_ Sabine thought to herself. _Someone else has to be able to lead better than me._

 _...But who?_

That was the problem. Sabine didn't _know_ who. Heck, no one _she_ knew. And Mandalore needed her NOW. That was why she was here.

"That's why I'm doing it," Sabine finished aloud, her voice steely sure.

Hera nodded slowly as she pressed the anti-grav on the crate. "That's amazing, Sabine," she admitted finally. "And it looks like the Rebellion might have a new Mandalorian ally against the Empire because of you."

Sabine found she wasn't able to meet Hera's eyes as the Twi'lek went on.

"It'll be good to have you and Ezra back," Hera continued as she pushed the crate along. "Chopper Base has sure seemed lonely for the last couple of weeks. But there's been a lot less complaints about a mysterious vandal spray-painting the pilot's gear."

Sabine tried for a smile at Hera's teasing tone… but she couldn't. Sabine could only look away and scan the horizon.

"We're not staying," she said quietly. Sabine could feel Hera's eyes boring into the back of her neck. She took a quick breath and continued to stare into the distance as she pushed the crate.

"I'm the Mand'alor now, Hera," Sabine said hesitantly. "I vowed to lead my people and liberate them. They call me 'Mand'alor the Free' because of that. I… I don't know when me and Ezra will be able to come back to Chopper Base. Maybe a few months?" Sabine paused and licked her lips, quickly glancing back over to Hera. She was still pushing the crate, but her eyes were on Sabine. They were soft.

"Kor says at the rate we're going, it'll take me at least six months to rally a good bit of the Mandalorians," Sabine muttered. "And that's if we're quick _and_ if I'm lucky. And we both know which of those two I'm pathetically short of."

Silence spanned between the two of them and Sabine looked away as she continued to push the crate. _I'll be gone so long,_ Sabine thought to herself. _Six months is half a year. The Rebellion will have made their attack on Lothal's factories by then. And even after that… what then? I'll be the Mand'alor._

Helplessness suddenly overwhelmed Sabine. She was in over her head. She was away from the _Ghost_ crew, away from her blood family, and fighting the Empire head on. _Surely_ someone could lead better than Sabine. She… she couldn't handle so much responsibility! She couldn't accept this fate!

"You can do this, Sabine," Hera said suddenly.

Sabine froze, the Twi'lek reading her mind. She gripped the rim of the crate tight but didn't move forward.

"If you think about your leadership too much," Hera continued, "then you'll get overwhelmed. Live by five minutes at a time. You can handle being the sole ruler for five minutes, right?"

Sabine knit her brows but eventually nodded.

Hera dipped her head and fixed Sabine with a firm but somehow gentle look. "Then go from there. Don't think about how many weeks or months you have to recruit the Mandalorians, just focus on new ways to rally them five minutes at a time."

Sabine sucked in a huge breath, closed her eyes, and slowly let the air out again. Five minutes. Sabine could be the Mand'alor for five minutes. _But which planet are we going to after we leave Atollon? We_ have _to rally the Mandalorians before the Rebellion launches the attack on Lothal's factories. We_ need _those troops. What will happen if I can't provide them, though? What'll happen when my people won't rally to my cause-_

Stop. No. Five minutes. For the next five minutes, Sabine could make a mental list about the Mandalorian worlds they could visit. The more population, the more Mandos that would rally to her. Sabine could do that for five minutes. No sweat.

"Thanks, Hera," Sabine said aloud, sighing again. Five minutes. She could be the Mand'alor for five more minutes.

"Not a problem," the Twi'lek said easily and began to push her crate again, Sabine matching her pace. "You know, I use that little trick when I'm in mission briefings sometimes. It can get a bit overwhelming, telling everyone what to do and how to do it, and even being responsible for their deaths if you give a bad order."

"Wait," Sabine interrupted, a corner of her mouth tugging upwards in a grin. " _You_ get overwhelmed?"

Hera disengaged the grav on the crate and set it down next to a stack of supplies. Sabine followed suit.

"Of course," Hera scoffed. "I'm not invincible."

Sabine tilted her head and was about to reply when a string of warblings cut off her soon-to-be sentence.

"Chopper!" Hera exclaimed, turning to the cacophony of the droid's complaining

"Chopper," Sabine groaned, and didn't bother glancing over her shoulder to see the grumpy astromech. _Almost forgot about him,_ Sabine mused. _Almost._

The little droid rolled to Hera in a panic, only on one wheel. His binary words were being emitted so fast, Sabine's mind had to strain to catch up. Halfway through his story, Sabine realized what Chop was going on about. He shuffled closer to Hera and waved his manipulator arms about exaggeratedly, extending what was left of the right one to Hera.

Sabine's mentor dropped to her knees to take a closer look at the damage. "Karabast," Hera cursed, and Sabine was mildly surprised. There was only a handful of times the Twi'lek would let a word like that slip.

Chopper continued to harp about how his appendage had been blasted off by a person described in very colorful adjectives.

"You'll need a new arm," Hera muttered, holding the blackened rod in her hands. "Who did this?"

Sabine's eyebrows went up at the Twi'lek's angry tone. _Luc is gonna die,_ Sabine thought grimly.

Chopper beeped an accusing statement at Sabine and she glared down at the droid.

Hera glanced up at her. "What'd you mean it's her fault?" Hera asked Chop. Her voice dropped low and she knit her thin brows. "Sabine, you better not have-"

"I didn't touch the murderbot!" Sabine protested, crossing her arms hard. "It was a Mandalorian in the Death Watch camp. Someone interrogated Ezra and shot Chopper to prove a point."

Using his damaged logic circuits, Chop suddenly decided to chime in about Luc's exact whereabouts.

"The Mandalorian is _here?_ " Hera exclaimed, standing up. " _ON_ Chopper Base?"

Sabine glared fiercer at the droid. "You're no help, you know that?" she muttered to him. Typical Chopper. Stirring up trouble just because he thought it was funny.

The droid put his manipulator arms on the on his "hips" and wiggled his squat body in a haughty gesture.

Sabine sneered down at him and Hera stepped in between the two. "Sabine," she said slowly, her eyes narrowed. "Tell me who hurt my droid."

Sabine held her hands out in front of her as if fending off an attack (which was almost true). "A guy named Luc," Sabine answered and stepped back to put a little distance between the two of them. "But I already sorted him out, Hera. He was just doing his job."

"I don't give a care about _his_ job," Hera snapped back fiercely. " _My_ job is making sure my crew stays safe."

"We _are_ safe," Sabine soothed. "Chopper is over exaggerating, okay? He can't even process pain."

Chop instantly denied it and shoved his good arm at Sabine in what was probably a rude gesture in a droid's world.

Sabine forcefully kicked the squat astromech away. "See?" Sabine added as Chop was thrown onto his mechanical posterior. "He didn't even feel that."

Hera palmed her face and gave a heavy sigh. "I'll _consider_ overlooking the sleemo that shot Chopper if he pays for my droid's new arm _AND_ gives me a humble apology."

The droid beeped again.

"Me _and_ Chop," Hera added.

Sabine sighed mentally. "Fine," she grumbled aloud. _Luc owes me_ big _time,_ Sabine thought.

Chopper gave a mechanical huff and grabbed Hera's hand with his good manipulator arm, pulling her along. The droid continued to blabber on and on about how Luc had hammered Ezra while interrogating him, and how Arc had nearly killed Sabine in a duel to the death, and how Kor had almost shot Sabine in the chest.

Sabine ran a hand through her dyed hair and made a mental note not to bring Chopper along when they left Atollon to rally the Mandalorians. He had gone from a grumpy chaperone to a cranky snitch.

 _Someone's gonna dismantalize that murderbot one day,_ Sabine thought to herself, _and Hera won't be around to protect him._

Sabine uncrossed her arms with a sigh and trailed after her companions to the heart of the camp. Luc and Hera's "discussion" was not going to be pretty. Luc was a Mandalorian. And Mandalorians don't DO humble apologies.

Sabine began to jog forward and passed Hera and Chopper up. She needed to get to Luc before he met Sabine's adoptive angry mother. _Luc owes me,_ she thought to herself again, somewhat angrily. _He owes me so bad._

At the back of her mind, something resonated with the thought. _Owes. Debts. That seems like all a Mandalorian is made up of these days._

 _Arc owes me for sparing her life in the duel to the death, so she follows me._

 _Fenn Rau owes Kanan for not killing him, so he joined the Rebellion._

 _I owe Kanan and Hera for saving me, for taking me in when everyone else abandoned me. And that's a debt I'll never be able to repay them for._

Sabine paused for a moment; there was a slight falter in her quick pace as a sudden thought entered the back of her mind.

 _And maybe that's okay._

* * *

Ezra trudged along Atollon's sandy dunes, wandering aimlessly. _He'll be able to answer my questions,_ Ezra told himself. He hiked the sensor marker over a shoulder, the weighty metal rod beginning to get heavier in his hand.

"Come on," Ezra muttered to the wind. "Where are you?"

He was going to get answers. If Kanan couldn't help him, then Ezra would find someone who could.

"Bendu!" Ezra called. " _Bendu!_ Where are you?" He stopped and impatiently tapped his foot, looking around. All Ezra could see was sand, sand and more sand.

" _Focus, Ezra."_

He remembered his master's words and breathed a sigh, letting go of all sense of urgency and relaxed. The giant, mystical creature was around here somewhere… Ezra reached out with the Force and searched the endless dunes and odd rock formations. He naturally honed in on a specific spot and walked forward, eyes closed and hand extended. Further and further and further… until:

"Bendu," Ezra said.

There was a loud shifting sound and he opened his eyes to see a monstrous form rising from the sand. The Bendu shook his mighty head, showering Ezra with grit and dirt.

"The apprentice returns," the creature growled, blowing a puff of air our his nostrils. "And with… trouble, mmm?"

Ezra pursed his lips, wondering how to continue. "I need your advice, Bendu," he said eventually. "Can you help me?"

The creature tilted his monstrous head, beard waving in the hot, dry wind. "Well, that depends," he rumbled. "What advice do you seek, Ezra Bridger, lost Padawan?"

Ezra frowned, unsatisfied with his given title. "I'm not lost," he objected.

The Bendu raised his head, the sun glinting off his rocky antlers. "If you were not lost," he countered, "then you would need no guidance, yet here you are… Ezra Bridger, lost Padawan."

He slumped his shoulders in defeat and decided to let it go. Besides, he wasn't here to discuss himself. "My friend," Ezra began, "you've never met her before, and she isn't a Force-user. But I've felt the Force guide her footsteps up until this point, yet she rejects it. She won't accept her fate. I… I don't know what to do."

The Bendu's cloudy eyes remained impassive. "...What do you _want_ to do?" he inquired.

"I want to convince her that her destiny is important," Ezra answered sternly. "But she won't accept the fact that the Force is with her. She's too stubborn."

"Or perhaps you are too protective?" the Bendu countered.

Ezra froze. "...What?"

"Your presence is conflicting," the large creature continued, rubbing his fist against the sand. "It is a storm of emotions, much like your friend you speak of. What is her name?"

Ezra swallowed. "Sabine Wren," he answered, wondering why it mattered. Weren't they getting a little off track?

"Yes," Bendu continued slowly. "I've sensed her troubled presence, a broken warrior, that one."

"So you've sensed her importance in the Force," Ezra jumped in immediately. "You know she has a destiny."

Bendu turned his mighty head towards the boy. "Everyone has a destiny," he rumbled, "but only some embrace it. Your friend you speak of is no excuse. Should she refuse her own importance, it would hinder her growth. Should she embrace it and the Force… then you would not have to worry, mmm? Such is the way of things."

Finally, they were getting somewhere! "So how do I convince her?" Ezra asked quickly.

The Bendu narrowed his cloudy, distorted eyes. "While your friend's downfall may be her own independence… your fatal flaw is no less dangerous."

Ezra clenched his jaw. "And that's what?" he challenged.

"Why, personal loyalty!" the Bendu exclaimed, as if finding it funny. "You devote yourself to the safety of Sabine Wren with an overabundance of passion… just as you would to any of your other friends."

Ezra knit his deep black brows. "And what's wrong with that?" he growled back.

The Bendu sighed. "Some paths are meant to be walked alone," he rumbled. "And there will be nothing you can do to change the outcome."

Ezra crossed his arms. "So that's all the advice you can give me? You didn't answer my question on what I can do to convince Sabine of her importance."

"I _did,_ " the Bendu corrected, his voice becoming dangerously deep. "And the answer is; nothing.

"There are some things that are simply out of your control… Ezra Bridger, lost Padawan."

* * *

Ezra fumed as made his way back into Chopper Base, sticking the thumper back into the sandy ground. _Total waste of time,_ he muttered. _All Bendu could tell me was to do nothing. Heh. Some wisdom._

"He's wrong," Ezra muttered. There was _always_ something Ezra could do. And he wouldn't stand by while his best friend rejected her destiny! The Force shrouded Sabine with unseen tendrils, working its way into her emotions and guiding her feet and decisions. How come Sabine couldn't see it?

Ezra looked over at Sabine in the distance, walking to Sato as the commander summoned her. Ezra's electric blue eyes flitted over the Mandalorian's lean, athletic form, flowing cape, and crossed arms. Even now, she looked defiant. Stubborn.

"She can't see," Ezra murmured to himself. If she couldn't see the danger in her stubborn ignorance… then Ezra _had_ to protect her. He couldn't let her special destiny slip from his grasp. He couldn't let _her_ slip from his grasp.

Whatever happened on the rest of their journey, Ezra would be ready. He wouldn't let her walk the rest of this path alone. Ezra was with her.

All the way.

* * *

Sabine cautiously made her way to Commander Sato as he summoned her. The Rebel leader looked over his shoulder and motioned to Ezra as well.

"Sir? Ezra asked, seeming impatient for some reason as he came to stand next to her.

"What I'm about to say is of upmost importance, Ezra Bridger," Sato said sternly.

Sabine watched curiously as Ezra sighed, stilling his shaky fingers and tapping foot. "Sorry," he apologized.

Sato turned to both of them and Sabine narrowed her eyes. The way he was looking at her… _I've got a bad feeling about this_ , she thought to herself. Was the guy about to punish her? Demote her? What did she do wrong?

Finally… Commander Sato spoke. "Congratulations," he said at last, "both of you. I entrusted you with this mission, Sabine Wren, and you have more than exceeded my expectations. The same goes to you, Ezra Bridger."

Sabine and the Padawan exchanged glances. She was hesitantly hopeful. _I wonder where this is going…_

"The Rebellion now has a major Mandalorian ally," Sato continued.

"Arc joined us?" Ezra instantly interrupted, Sabine feeling the same excitement.

Sato ignored the interruption and continued on. "And for that, Sabine Wren, you will be leading your expedition back not as a lieutenant… but as a commander."

Sabine's eyes widened. _No way_ , she thought incredulously. _No_ way! _I've… I've got a promotion!_

Sabine swallowed and allowed herself to smile slightly. She saluted the man. "Thank you."

Commander Sato simply nodded and then turned to Ezra and Sabine watched, barely containing her excitement as Sato spoke the finalizing words to her best friend.

"You have grown, young Ezra Bridger," Commander Sato said, a corner of his mouth lifting in the beginnings of a smile, "in maturity as well as power. So, it is my privilege to suspend your… suspension. You are once again, Lieutenant Commander." This time, Sato saluted Ezra, which the boy hastily mimicked.

"Thank you, sir!" he said quickly. "I won't let you down again."

Sabine watched as Sato let his hand fall to his side. "I know," the commander replied and nodded to both of them as he left.

As soon as Sato was gone, the two teens turned to each other, smiling ear to ear.

"Congrats, _Lieutenant_ ," Sabine said as she grinned. "You earned it. _Really_ earned it."

"Back at you, Commander," Ezra replied, a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

"You know," Sabine teased, "this time, I _actually_ outrank you."

She watched as Ezra shook his head slowly, a smile on his lips. "I'll say it before and I'll say it again. You can't outrank a Jedi. I'm in a totally different league than the rest of you mortals."

Sabine put a hand on her hip, bantering, "Well _this_ mortal is your commanding officer."

She watched as Ezra stepped closer and for some reason… she didn't back away. "Are you going to try to give me an order?" he asked quietly and Sabine looked up at him, something fluttering in her chest.

Wait… _what?_

But before she could contemplate the alien feeling, her Mandalorian vambrace went off, and Sabine glanced at it. She began to frown, confused, as it beeped and a light blinked in and out.

"What's up?" Ezra asked quietly.

Sabine stared at it. "I… programmed the vambrace to link to the _Mesh'la Aden_ in case of any… abnormal activity."

"And?"

Sabine's eyes suddenly widened with realization. _Karabast_ , she cursed mentally. "We're being hailed," Sabine told the Padawan, beginning to run towards the small crowd of Mandalorians.

"Arc!" she called to her cousin, and motioned for her and the others to follow. "C'mon! Someone's hailing us."

But Arc, as stubborn as ever, made no move to follow Sabine. "Who?" She demanded.

Sabine stared her cousin down, making her next words slow and clear.

" _Death Watch_."

* * *

Thirty seconds later, Arc, Ezra, Kor, Luc, Fenn Rau and Sabine piled into the Arc's Mandalorian carrier _,_ hovering over the control panel as a glowing blue hologram emitted from the ship's holoprojector.

As it flickered to life, a familiar face came into view. "Talk to me Jaxon," Arc prompted, pushing to the front of the slight mob.

Sabine realized it was indeed Jaxon, the man in his late twenties who had played _Meshgeroya_ with them ever so often.

The Mando looked nervous as Sabine watched him run a fair-skinned hand through his slick, blonde hair. "Well," Jaxon began slowly, "You know I'm from Clan Ordo, right?"

"So?" Arc said impatiently.

"Clan Ordo sent Mand'alor the Free a message," Jaxon said hesitantly.

Sabine froze. _What?_ She glanced over at Arc, and the two looked at each other questioningly.

And in that moment of brief silence, Ezra butted in. "What's Clan Ordo?"

Sabine rolled her eyes. In the back of her mind, she knew it wasn't the Padawan's fault he was so clueless to her culture… but it got tiresome having to explain every little Mando thing to Ezra.

Sabine opened her mouth to tell him, but Luc beat her to it. "Clan Ordo is one of the oldest Mandalorian clans in history," Luc said, glancing at Ezra. "The fact that they want to talk to Sabine—"

"—To _Mand'alor_ ," Kor corrected, "Is… big. Really, _really_ big."

"Like, liberate Mandalore big," Arc added.

Sabine swallowed and licked her lips. _Clan Ordo,_ she thought to herself disbelievingly. "Well," Sabine said finally, "What did they say, Jaxon?"

The man in the form of the hologram ran a hand through his hair nervously again. "… It's best if I just let you see it, Mand'alor."

Sabine watched as Jaxon reached over, touching something off-screen. Suddenly, Jaxon disappeared and a totally different person reappeared. It looked like a man, wearing weathered black armor, accented by gold, and completely covered head to toe.

"My name," the Mando began, "Is Torian Ordo of Clan and House Ordo. This is a prerecorded message, so I am not speaking to you in person, Sabine Wren."

Sabine looked into the blank, black, T-shaped visor of the man, feeling herself growing wary.

"Clan Ordo and our allies, the Kelborns and Caderas," he continued, "have heard many rumors that there is a new Mand'alor… and that the sole ruler is none other than _you_. The traitorous Sabine Wren who led the Empire to Clan Kryze _and_ had a distinct involvement in the Empire's takeover of Mandalore."

She could feel the burning gazes of the people around her, but she continued to look at Torian Ordo's visor.

"I request a meeting, with you," he said, seeming to smirk underneath his helmet. "I want to test the… _liability_ of what these rumors claim. If you do indeed possess the Darksaber and the skill others say you do… than meet me on Dxun in two standard days or less."

Torian finally uncrossed his arms and lifted his chin challengingly, making the helmet tilt upwards

" _Par kote bal ijaat_ _be Mand'alor_ ," the Mando leader said finally.

And then the blue hologram faded, leaving total silence in its wake. "For glory and honor of sole ruler," Sabine breathed to herself, translating Torian Ordo's words.

After a while, Fenn Rau spoke. "This is a big opportunity, Sabine Wren," he said quietly. "And I promised that I would follow you, long before any of this 'Mand'alor the Free' business happened… So I will."

Sabine looked up at him in amazement. "What'd you mean?" she sputtered.

"I know Torian Ordo," Rau continued, "And he knows me. If I were to come with you, we would have a better chance of gaining his trust and allegiance."

"But," Luc interjected, "It's going to take a lot more than a familiar face for him to get behind you, Sabi—er, Mand'alor."

"I agree," Arc added, seeming uncharacteristically quiet. "I've met Torian Ordo before. The old man is stubborn and _usually_ levelheaded-unless the Death Watch is brought up."

Sabine stared at where the hologram had been, just moments before. Her eyes were glued to the spot as she thought furiously. She didn't want to leave Chopper Base. They'd just got there _that day!_ It had been weeks since she'd seen Hera, and Sabine still hadn't gotten the chance to spot Kanan yet.

But Torian had given them two days until the meeting. And it would take nearly every bit of that time to get to Dxun.

Sabine suddenly felt something warm and fuzzy touch her mind and she shivered.

Ezra.

She glanced over at the seventeen year old. Sabine's time with the rest of the _Ghost_ crew might have been very brief… but at least she had her best friend with her.

"This is going to be a challenge," Korkie said gravely. "Do you think you'll be able to handle it, Mand'alor?"

"Please," Ezra broke in exaggeratedly, coming to stand next to Sabine. "We've dodged blasterfire, sabotaged Imperial bases, and hijacked enemy ships… this? Convincing some old man to join us? No sweat."

Sabine began to smile at Ezra's easy, laid-back tone.

But Arc was frowning. "You say that now…" she growled ominously.

Sabine's eyes still stayed on Ezra. Instead of pushing his Force-probe out of her mind, she… decided to let her mental walls stay down.

"I'm with Ezra," Sabine said finally. "Me and him have been in worse and succeeded. This one is no different."

Arc shrugged finally. "You're the Mand'alor… Torian Ordo here we come."

Sabine jumped into the pilot's seat and flicked a few switches as she engaged in the rituals of pre-liftoff. Ezra took co-pilot and cracked his knuckles.

As Sabine's hand hovered over the ship's diagnostic's test, she glanced back at Fenn Rau. "You coming with?"

The older man gave her a slight smile and buckled himself into one of the seats. "Wouldn't miss it, Mand'alor!"

Sabine turned back to the ship's control panel, checking a few more buttons. "Hey, Ez," she began as she worked, "you think Hera's gonna miss us?"

Sabine didn't look at him, but heard the Padawan pause. "Probably. But she's gotta be used to one of us running off at one time or another." Ezra paused again, and then added with a grin, "Remember that self-assigned mission to Oon?"

Sabine couldn't help smiling as she continued to prepare for takeoff. "The one with that Zygerrian slave trader?"

"Yeah," Ezra confirmed. "And you let yourself get captured without telling the rest of us."

Sabine shrugged as she primed the fuel compactor. "There wasn't time," she said. "Besides, you found me didn't you?"

Ezra nodded as he gave her a lopsided grin. "Like I said," he began with a smile, "I'm with you all the way."

Sabine smiled back. Although she would miss Hera and Kanan and Zeb, and it was unfortunate she hadn't gotten to see the latter two, she had Ezra. And really… well, if he were by her then Sabine would be just fine.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Arc prompted, breaking into her thoughts. "We don't have all cycle!"

Sabine suddenly gunned the engine, thrusting the yoke forward. She heard Arc yelp and fall to the ground from the sudden movement, as the _Mesh'la A'den_ was now flying, rocketing towards Atollon's atmosphere.

She couldn't see her cousin, but she could hear Ezra cackle as Arc shoved herself up off the floor.

"You okay, cuz?" Sabine asked innocently and felt the said person pop her upside the head.

"You're a sick human being," Arc muttered as Sabine heard her walk to the back of the ship, buckling herself into one of the seats.

"We both know," Sabine began, "that you would—and have—done the exact same thing."

"What's it like having a taste of your own medicine, Arc?" she heard Ezra ask cheekily.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, came a weathered green helmet that clocked Ezra in the back of his head. "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the spot. "What'd you do that for?"

" _Vaabir not jorhaa'ir meh gar liser not koor ti te gratiir_ ," Arc muttered in Mando'a.

Sabine smiled slightly at her cousin's words as Sabine plugged in the coordinates Jaxon had forwarded.

She glanced over at Ezra to see him cross his arms. "She always pulls the Mando'a card," he muttered.

Sabine hesitated, as she got ready to engage the thrusters. "You know," she began slowly, "I could help you learn Mando'a. We've got nearly two days of being in hyperspace."

Ezra looked surprise. "You'd do that?"

Sabine frowned slightly. "Of course. With you all the way, remember?"

Arc broke in again, standing up. "We'd _all_ be with _everyone_ all the way to Dxun if you would just push the kriffing hyperspace throttle—"

Sabine did, sick of hearing her cousin complain about how slow she was being. Arc was thrown back _again_ as the ship rocketed forward and the stars lengthened around them. The _Mesh'la A'den_ made the jump into hyperspace, leaving Arc stumbling around on the floor.

" _E chu ta_!" Arc spat to Sabine.

Her mouth dropped. _How rude!_ Sabine exclaimed mentally. _If Hera were here, she'd have Arc's mouth washed out._

"So," Ezra said, "what did she say this time?"

"That wasn't Mando'a," Sabine muttered. "It was Huttese. And something I am _definitely_ not going to translate for you."

 **Annnnd done.** **Welp, you guys are great for sticking this story out with me. Trust me, it's gonna get even more cooler and I appreciate every favorite and follow so much! :) Have a belated Merry Christmas and a happy new year!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	10. Chapter 10: Clan Ordo

**Hi, Specter7 here. I know what you're thinking. "Wow, Specter you actually updated ON TIME?" Yeah, I know. I'm a miracle worker. Anyway, the OC Torian Ordo in this chapter belongs to my fanfic friend, Mandalore the Freedom. Also... Happy 2018 everyone! Here's to a brilliant new year and the very last season of Rebels.**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 10: Clan Ordo

* * *

"The only advice I'll give you: when you're in the jungle, shoot anything that moves. Then shoot the things that don't move, just to be sure."

 _-Kex (about Dxun)_

* * *

Sabine had been to a lot of places. She'd seen a lot of planets. But whenever the _Mesh'la A'den_ exited hyperspace and the forest moon Dxun loomed in front of her… it was astounding.

It had been a surprisingly eventful two days since they set out to Torian Ordo's homeworld. Sabine had been able to teach Ezra some key phrases of Mando'a, Kor had shined his armor to perfection, Luc had continued to bother and bully Ezra, and Fenn Rau had had some interesting arguments with Arc. The two had been at each other's throats the whole ride, arguing their points on whose ancestors were right and whose were wrong. With Rau being the leader of an esteemed group of True Mandalorians, and Arc being the leader of an originally hated and vicious group of Mandos… the two had very different opinions on how to truly lead.

And although the Arc versus Rau dynamic had supplied Sabine with sufficient entertainment for all of two days, she was relieved they had finally reached their destination: Dxun.

The artist in Sabine admired the gorgeousness of the moon, with its lush, vibrantly green continents that parted in a place or two to reveal pockets of deep, royal blue water. Dxun was beautiful, as if it had jumped right out of a painting or an image that might've been on the holonet to advertise ideal places to vacation to.

"First time?" someone asked.

Sabine glanced over her shoulder to see Fenn Rau, standing besides the pilot's seat.

"Yeah," she answered, turning back to the viewport.

Rau sighed, as if remembering better times. "Once, long ago, I reacted just like that. It's beautiful to see a Mandalorian world not ravaged by war."

Sabine was about to agree when Arc interrupted them as she slid on her helmet. "Ha," Arc said dryly, her voice emitting from a mic in her helmet, "you think that up here. Just wait till we get to the ground."

Sabine clenched her jaw as she forcibly sighed. Of course. She'd heard about Dxun and how many wars were fought in its tree-abundant grounds. The moon's appearance was a façade. Millions of lives had been lost on its surface. It simply didn't show the effects of battles like Mandalore or Concord Dawn—or countless other worlds and moons wasted by war.

 _Why can't our people just stop fighting each other?_ Sabine asked herself despairingly.

And all the way down to Dxun's surface, that question was in her mind.

And it never left.

* * *

Darkness… That was all there was… That was all he could see…

Ezra felt his breaths grow labored as he looked out the viewport at the moon Sabine called "Dxun." He could barely hear Sabine and Rau talking about how beautiful the moon was over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest.

The fear.

The anger.

The hate.

It surrounded Ezra. It pulled at him in different directions, pounding into his skin and creeping into his heart. _What is wrong with me?_ Ezra asked himself desperately. _I feel so…_

"…Cold," he breathed.

"We can turn the ship's internal heaters on," Sabine said, interrupting his thoughts. She was in the pilot's seat, commandeering the _Mesh'la A'den_ and bringing it into Dxun's atmosphere.

"It's not that," Ezra whispered and hugged himself tight. The closer they got to the moon, the worse he felt.

Sabine seemed to notice this and moved to him, setting the ship on autopilot. "Ezra? You don't look too good. What's wrong—?"

"—Sabine," he interrupted, lashing out his hand to grab hers. Usually, Ezra would simply brush her mind and send a feeling across. But at their physical contact, Ezra channeled out the darkness he was sensing into Sabine. Immediately, Ezra felt better and he looked over to see his best friend sit straight up, as if chills suddenly went down her spine.

The Mando abruptly jerked her hand away, her fingers visibly shaking. "What was that?" Sabine asked, her voice trembling.

Ezra swallowed, a sense of foreboding overcoming him. "The dark side," he answered in a grave whisper, remembering to keep his voice down. "I don't know why, but this moon… it's—it's as if it's _infused_ with it."

He watched, as Sabine seemed to hesitate. "There are rumors," she began eventually, "mostly legends, that over a thousand years ago… Dxun was the burial spot of a Sith."

Ezra nodded slowly. That would explain it. But he paused. "Why would they bury a Sith here?" Ezra asked. With a place as beautiful as Dxun, he would have figured darksiders would bury their fellow practitioner… somewhere more Sith-like.

"The _Jedi_ were said to have put the Sith on Dxun," Sabine continued, "in order to keep interested parties of its scent. This moon is home to thousands of deadly predators, Ezra. No one even wants to come here, much less live here."

"Except Mandalorians," Ezra added.

"Except Mandalorians," Sabine confirmed.

He gave a little smirk. Of course. Why wasn't he surprised the Mandos were the exception?

"I'd watch my step if I were you, kid," Arc added, breaking into their conversation. "Dxun's a dangerous place with dangerous creatures that'd kill you in a heartbeat. One of our Mand'alors died here, in fact. Eaten alive by a few of the beasts."

Ezra swallowed as he looked out the viewport at the moon's dense foliage. They had landed on the surface, in a rare clearing.

"How long until we get to Clan Ordo's outpost?" Ezra asked to anyone who would answer.

"Not far," Sabine answered, keying something into her vambrace. "An hour tops. I couldn't find a suitable clearing close enough, so… I landed the ship here. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot."

Ezra sighed, his heart dropping. With the dark side pushing on him, pulling at his mind, tickling the back of his neck… a long walk in the creepy woods was _exactly_ what he didn't need.

"Wonderful," Ezra moaned.

* * *

Two hours later, a tired, weary, on-edge, easily annoyed Sabine trudged through the dense forest, her eyes on her Mandalorian vambrace.

"How much longer?" she could hear Ezra complain from behind her.

"We're almost there!" Sabine snapped, her patience thin.

"You said that an hour ago," Luc muttered to her left. The blonde-haired Mando appeared pretty miserable, looking even worse than Ezra. And in that moment, Sabine was glad she didn't have as much armor on as Luc, Kor, Arc, and Rau did to weigh her down. But Sabine's crimson colored cloak _did_ get in the way often. It snagged on leaves and branches repeatedly, earning Sabine even more aggravation. And now, two hours into their hike, the hem of her cloak was soiled with mud and heavy and wet everywhere else.

"You know, Bean," Arc said slowly, "I'm beginning to have the slightest, faintest, inkling of a thought that we might be… I dunno, _lost?_ "

Sabine ignored her cousin and looked down at her vambrace, frowning. According to the blinking light, Torian Ordo's outpost should be _right here._

Sabine wiped her gloved palm against her forehead, pushing her damp hair out of her eyes. She was exhausted. Hiking in this _manda_ -forsaken jungle was too much.

Sabine looked down at her helmet, the T-shaped visor staring back. She had it under her arm and had taken it off an hour ago, the helmet being even hotter than the temperature outside.

"Mand'alor?" Kor asked suddenly.

Sabine glanced over and realized she had stopped walking. She hesitated briefly. _I_ know _it's right here,_ Sabine said to herself. _The coordinates Jaxon supplied had to be correct._

"Spread out," Sabine ordered quickly. "Stay within com-radius and call if you see anything. Torian Ordo's base is close… I can feel it."

Luc snorted but began to walk away. "You're starting to sound like a Jedi, Mand'alor."

Sabine stiffened at the sound of the word, which was heavy with importance. She glanced over at Ezra and the two met eyes. Her eyes continued further and rested on Arc, who seemed to swell with anger. Her cousin stormed over to Luc, jamming a finger on the man's chest plate.

"Careful, Luc," Arc snarled. "My little cousin is _nothing_ like a Jedi. The cursed religion was killed off for a reason, y'know."

Sabine watched Luc give his leader a look of incredulity that morphed into fiery anger. But as he started to move to Arc, who had begun to walk off, Kor placed a hand on Luc's shoulder. The older man shook his head briefly, silently telling the younger man to not let fury get the best of him.

Sabine turned away from the scene, shaken, and searched around for any sign of civilization. She heard a few muffled steps from behind her and sighed. "You know," Sabine began, "Arc's not gonna be happy when she finds out your little secret."

Ezra trudged up besides her, swatting away the excess foliage. "I know," he said. "But her stereotype of Jedi is all wrong. She thinks we're bullies and murderers. How crazy is that?"

Sabine bit her lip as she continued to wander into the forest. "We were kind of raised to think like that, Ezra. It wasn't until I met Kanan that I actually thought anything different."

Ezra seemed to be conflicted and he ducked to avoid a low-hanging tree branch. "Are all Mandalorians like her?" he asked eventually.

Sabine was surprised. "No!" she exclaimed. "Of course not. Most of us have a… sort of hesitant respect for Jedi. We admire your strength and skill in battle, yet most of us still hold a grudge against your people."

Ezra frowned. "Is it because of the whole bombing Mandalore thing?"

Sabine gave an emotionless chuckle. _Mando history in a nutshell_ , she reflected. "Yes, for the most part."

"And the other?"

Sabine hesitated. "Our people have a rivalry, Ezra. Didn't Kanan tell you this?"

Ezra shrugged. "I think he said something about the Mandalorians searching for people to fight and they decided to wage war against the Jedi."

Sabine stopped and put her hands on her hips. "That's a narrow way to look at it," she commented.

Ezra stopped as well. "How would _you_ put it, then?"

Sabine sighed and continued to walk forward. "A long time ago, my people searched for worthy opponents. Strength in battle was everything back then, so finding an adversary that rivaled the might of a Mandalorian was hard to find."

"Until they found out about the Jedi," Ezra guessed.

"Yes," Sabine answered. "So, my people and your people fought, starting a grudge match between the two cultures that still exists today." She paused and looked at Ezra, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Or, is supposed to, anyway."

He smiled back, and then continued to trek through the leaf-covered forest, absently kicking a twig. "That still doesn't explain why Arc seems to hate Jedi even more than the usual Mando."

Sabine shrugged, realizing that she didn't have an answer. "I don't know. But I'm sure it has to do with that blonde Padawan braid in her hair."

Before the two could continue their talk about Sabine's cousin, she suddenly stumbled into a clearing, Ezra nearly falling over himself as well.

"Halt!" someone yelled. "What are you doing here?"

Sabine slowly looked up, gripping her helmet tight under her arm.

"Hey, Sabine," she heard Ezra whisper, "…I _think_ I just found your friend's outpost."

"Mmm," Sabine hummed swiftly, "the angry looking Mando with a blaster didn't clue you in on that?"

"Enough!" the same Mandalorian barked. He stepped closer, his blue and gray armor glinting in the blinding sunlight. "Why are you here, outsiders?"

Sabine glanced at Ezra, deftly stilling his arm that was moving to his DL-44. "My presence was requested by Torian Ordo," Sabine announced, straightening to her full height.

The Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "Sabine Wren?" he asked gravely.

She smirked slightly, flipping her helmet in her hands. "The one and only."

The man holstered his blaster and keyed something into his gauntlet. "My master has been expecting you… Are there any others besides the two of you?"

"Four more," Ezra answered, apparently refusing to be intimidated by the Mando. "I can signal them."

The man tilted his helmet to look at Ezra, his T-shaped visor hiding his expression. "And who might you be, boy? Not a Mandalorian, I'm assuming."

Sabine glanced at the teen as he shrugged. "I'm a friend," he answered honestly.

Sabine watched the Mandalorian stare at Ezra a moment longer, then turn without another word. As the man led the two rebels into Torian Ordo's camp, Sabine couldn't help smiling at the irony of all of this. Here was Ezra, a skilled Force-user and Jedi, walking into the heart of Clan Ordo, a famed Mandalorian faction.

It was paradoxical how Torian had unknowingly invited a long-hated enemy of his culture… into his very home.

The Mandalorian led the two rebels into the Ordo outpost, gaining them stares from the other members. Sabine noticed not only humans in armor, but aliens as well. She spotted a few Twi'leks, several Rodians, the occasional Devaronian, and even a Trandoshan, all in Mandalorian armor.

"You've adopted the species-tolerant policy, huh?" Sabine asked the man that led them.

He simply nodded once, not stopping to talk. Ezra bent his head next to her, whispering, "I thought only humans could be Mandalorian."

Sabine smiled as her best friend's cluelessness of her culture. "Ezra, Mandalorians aren't just a _race._ We're an idea. If anyone wants to be a Mandalorian, they can be a Mandalorian. They just have to have the right heart and enough courage."

Ezra nodded slowly and Sabine turned at the sound of rapid footsteps. Arc, Rau, Kor, and Luc jogged up behind the two.

"What'd we miss?" Luc asked breathlessly, falling in line with Sabine.

"Nothing important," Ezra answered stiffly and Sabine could feel his muscles tense against her own as their arms brushed.

Sabine hid a smile. _I guess Ezra still hasn't gotten over Luc bullying him awhile back. That, and, Ezra just generally dislikes the guy._

"Wait here," the Mandalorian that was leading them ordered. He had brought them to the middle of the base, leaving Sabine and the others to admire what Torian and his clan had built. The base was full of towering buildings, some in ruins, others repaired. Gun towers loomed in various places above the outpost, glaring down ominously on all the little mortals like Sabine.

"I like what he's done to the place," Arc mused, her hands on her hips. The Death Watch leader had put her helmet back over her head, and Sabine opted to do the same.

She could see Luc and Rau choose to follow her lead, pulling their helmets over their faces, hiding their true identities. Sabine had to admit, with the Mandos clad in their full amour they all looked pretty professional. Arc, Kor, and Luc each had the twin black stripes painted across some part of their armor. Luc's was on his shoulder, Kor's was on his chest plate, and Arc's was all the way across the right side of her body. Rau wasn't too shabby either. With his dark blue and gray armor, the weathered pieces were a callback to an ancient design of Duchess Satine's personal guards.

Sabine pulled her damp cloak close to her body, making her shiver. Its crimson color had darkened from the evaporation in the air, turning it a deep, rusty, almost-brown shade.

"Well," a deep voice said suddenly. "I see you answered my call, Sabine Wren."

Sabine refused to let her surprise show in her body language and she slowly straightened, turning to face the voice. But the person in front of her made her freeze. Instead of a big, buff, young Mandalorian leader… there was an old man with a white-as-snow beard. His face was lined with wrinkles and he was hunched over a long pole that served as a walking stick. A nasty, faded scar stretched across the old man's right eye, shattering the pale blue iris. He was suited in all-black clothing and armor, which was accented with brilliant gold and weathered badly, the paint scratched off in many parts.

As the old man hobbled closer, Sabine breathed, "Torian Ordo?"

The ancient Mandalorian nodded once. "Aye, _adiik_ ," he said, his voice warbling with age.

Sabine sucked in a breath and bowed low to the old man, Arc and the others doing likewise. She could just see Ezra in her peripheral vision, standing around and looking confused.

By the _manda_ , she wanted to smack the boy. _Doesn't he get that he has to show respect for someone who has survived this long as a warrior? Torian Ordo must be… eighty? Maybe even_ older _than that?_

"Why have you summoned me, _ruug'la solus_?" Sabine asked respectively, calling him 'old one'.

"To clarify a rumor," Torian Ordo answered gravely, straightening to his full height. "Is it true that you, Sabine Wren, have proclaimed yourself Mand'alor?"

Sabine swallowed and stared defiantly from underneath her helmet. "It is."

She watched as Torian Ordo set his jaw before asking, "And who has aligned themselves to your cause?"

Sabine exhaled heavily. _This is going to be the hard part,_ she told herself. "All of House Caladon," Sabine answered, "along with what is left of the Protectors of Concord Dawn."

Torian remained impassive. "And what _is_ left of the Protectors?"

Sabine gritted her teeth, remembering the atrocities Gar Saxon had committed. "Only their leader," Sabine answered humbly, motioning behind her. "Fenn Rau."

Torian seemed to jump out of his skin as he hobbled forward, passing Sabine. "By the _manda!_ " he exclaimed. "Is that really you, Fenn?"

Rau took off his helmet, revealing piercing blue eyes, an unshaven face, and just a hint of red hair from underneath his head covering. "Yes, old friend," he answered, the faintest of smiles on his lips. "It's wonderful to see you again… still living."

Instead of being insulted, Torian threw back his head and laughed. "Haven't lost your touch, have you? You're still that young upstart I trained with all those years ago."

Torian looked from Rau and back to Sabine, his face growing somber again. "And you said House Caladon joined also… Hmm?"

"Yes, _ruug'la solus_ ," Sabine said with a nod. "Their leader is here." She turned to her cousin. "This is—"

"—Oh, I know Arc Wren _all_ too well," Torian interrupted, turning to the lanky young woman. Arc simply tilted her helmet slightly, her visor pointed to Torian.

Sabine was mentally sending a prayer up to the _manda._

 _Please don't let Arc say anything stupid,_ she pleaded to their ancestors. _Please,_ please _don't let Arc say anything stupid!_

"I see even in your old age," Arc quipped carefully to Torian, "that your memory has not deteriorated… although your _mobility_ certainly has."

Sabine winced under her helmet. _Too late._ She waiting for Torian Ordo to lash back out at Arc. But he didn't. He just stared hard at the lanky leader for a long moment, his wrinkly knuckles tightening on his staff.

"I did end up remembering you after all," he said flatly.

Sabine could practically feel the waves of anger coming off of Arc. Her cousin's blank visor was facing Torian, concealing a face Sabine knew was red.

"Did I leave a good enough legacy with you?" Arc spat quietly.

Sabine was a bit confused at what Arc was hinting at—some past offense, maybe. What _exactly_ had Torian done to upset Arc this much?

Torian hobbled past Arc with a nonchalant wave of his hands. "Hardly," he deadpanned. "You weren't too famous with the Ordo's even before you resurrected the blasted Death Watch." Torian paused. "We did replace the gun towers you destroyed, though."

Arc nodded approvingly, casting a pointed look around. "I saw that. How long did it take? You know, to rebuild your defenses from scratch?"

Sabine shook her head at her cousin's withering tone. She was pushing it. " _Ruug'la solus_ ," Sabine interrupted. "You summoned me here. What for? To exchange insults with my cousin?"

Torian Ordo observed her with a curious gaze. "…So the rumors are true?" he asked again. "You are the Mand'alor?"

"I will be," Sabine answered. She took the Darksaber off the back of her belt, her fingers curling on the hilt's smooth, cold hilt. She ignited the blade and felt it pulse and vibrate in her hand. A collective gasp fell on Clan Ordo as Sabine raised the Darksaber, it's black beam shining.

"The Darksaber has united our people once," Sabine said, her amber eyes steely. "It will do so again."

Torian's one good eye narrowed, his gaze fixed on the sword. "Where did you get that?" he whispered.

"I won it," Sabine answered curtly. "It belongs to me. Now are you ready to negotiate our terms of alliance?"

The Ordo leader seemed to snap out of his trance and he straitened. "Come, young one," he ushered suddenly, tapping his walking stick on Sabine's shin armor. "We have much to discuss." Torian gestured to Rau as well, and the blue-armored Mando fell in pace with the old man.

Sabine retracted the Darksaber and followed the Ordo, passing Arc on the way. Her cousin lashed out an arm and squeezed Sabine's hand tight.

Sabine could just barely make out Arc's eyes behind the leader's tinted visor and her own helmet, but she didn't need to see them to know they were wide with worry. Sabine squeezed Arc's hand back assuredly. "It'll be okay," she promised.

Arc's heavy breathing was clearly audible, even with her helmet on. Sabine didn't know what had happened to Arc the last time she was on Dxun… but it was clearly making her anxious.

Arc would never say it, but she was scared. Sabine knew it. And now, Arc was scared for her.

Sabine gave Arc's hand another reassuring squeeze before letting go and catching up with Rau and Torian Ordo.

"Will my friends be okay?" she asked the old man, her guard up.

The Ordo leader didn't look over. "It wasn't wise bringing the Death Watch into my home-much less their blasted _leader_."

Sabine's hands began to move to her blasters on their own. "Will. My friends. Be okay." Sabine repeated slowly, dread building at the pit of her stomach.

"So long as Arc Wren doesn't attempt to blow up our stronghold again, then yes," Torian growled. "But the Death Watch will complicate our supposed alignment."

Rau put a gloved hand on the old man's shoulder. "Please, Torian," Rau rumbled. "Whomever has pledged their loyalty to Sabine Wren doesn't make her leadership abilities anything less. It… in fact, highlights them. You have to give her a chance; regardless of her cousin's involvement."

Torian seemed to hesitate, his pace faltering. "Maybe you're not such a young upstart anymore," he replied finally. Torian glanced at Sabine with his one good eye. "Alright then. My allies and I will grant you a fair hearing, young one. Nothing more, nothing less."

As they entered the main building, Sabine couldn't help but admire the inside, which seemed even bigger than the outside. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched up and up, flooding the main building with sunlight. In that moment, Sabine realized she was standing in Torian's throne room.

Rau stopped next to Sabine and she glanced over. He gave her a firm glance and a confident nod, the closest the Mando would ever get to reassuring her. Torian Ordo limped up a few steps and sat in his huge throne, seeming unfit to sit in the ample space.

On both sides of the throne, stood two Mandalorians, a woman in silver armor, and a man in white and gray.

Sabine recognized them before Torian even introduced the two.

"Sabine Wren" he began gruffly, "These are my clan's allies, the leaders of Clan Cadera,"

The woman to his left nodded in greeting.

"And Clan Kelborn."

The man to his right bobbed his head as well.

"If they are convinced you are a suitable Mand'alor, then we will join you. If not, we will try our hardest to make sure your title never becomes known."

Sabine didn't move, not acknowledging his veiled threat. She hesitated on what to say, knowing her next words could end her life. _Strategy,_ she told herself. _Everything is still all about tact and strategy. I_ have _to convince Torian to rally to my cause. If I'm really going to be the new Mand'alor, Clan Ordo joining is simply a necessity._

"I am Mand'alor the Free," Sabine said finally, choosing her words carefully. "And I come with an opportunity for our homeworld to be free from the grip of Gar Saxon. From the grip of the Emperor himself."

"Easier said than done," the man to Torian's left scoffed. "How do you, a mere _child,_ plan to liberate us?

"My age has nothing to do with this," Sabine shot back. "I've seen more than most adults would ever have nightmares about."

"We know of your treachery," the woman to Torian's right said briskly. "And you are right; I don't know many adults who would ever even dare _dream_ about the nightmares you committed in real life. _Helping_ the Empire enslave our homeworld? Building weapons of mass destruction? And even after that, killing off the legendary Clan Kryze. What excuse have you for that, _child?_ "

Sabine stared hard at the woman from underneath her helmet, trying not to show her bewilderment. _They know about what I did with the weapon?_ she thought, stricken. _They know that I_ made _it?_

Sabine clenched her teeth. Why did everywhere she go, she was still being called a traitor? Wasn't a person allowed to change?

The young Mand'alor finally took off her magenta colored helmet, shaking out her dyed white and purple hair. "Do you know of Jaxon Ordo?" she asked finally, her question aimed at Torian.

The old man seemed surprised. "Yes..." he said slowly. "Jaxon is an honorable young man. A bit headstrong, maybe, but his heart is always in the right place."

Sabine held back a smile. _Hooked._ "And are you aware that Jaxon is now a committed member of the Death Watch?"

The other two clan leaders seemed shocked and they turned to Torian, muttering under their breath. Torian simply held out a hand to silence them, and he leaned forward, stroking his beard. "Well aware, Sabine Wren. What, I pray, is your point?"

Sabine straitened. "I firmly believe Jaxon is still everything you think he is. He's honorable, loyal and just, yet he aligned with a group _you_ consider to be murderous traitors."

Torian looked like he was concentrating intensely. "True," he admitted finally. "There were many objections of him leaving us to join Arc Wren and her band."

Sabine inhaled heavily, knowing she was about to make her final point. "If such a good man like Jaxon did what was unpopular, allying with traitors, and still have his _honor_... then maybe they weren't _all_ traitors in the end. Maybe the Death Watch wasn't what you thought it was."

Torian leaned back in his massive throne, his frail arms crossed in concentration. By now, Sabine knew they could all see her point. They all knew what she was doing: paralleling Jaxon's situation with her own.

"The two cases are not the same," the leader of Clan Kelborn objected.

"But similar enough?" Torian countered.

The two leaders by the old man's side stared at him and Sabine knew they were shocked.

"Torian," the leader of Clan Cadera hissed. "This sniveling snake is a _traitor!_ She is nothing like your Jaxon."

Sabine scowled at the insult, wanting to snap something sarcastic back, but she stayed silent. She watched as Torian Ordo met Sabine's eyes evenly. "Sabine Wren," he said slowly. "You have committed a great grievance against your people. How will you redeem yourself?"

Sabine lifted her chin. "I'm _not_ a traitor. Yes, I was an Imperial Cadet... but only because it was all I knew. My clan thought it would be an honorable thing to serve my planet's savior." Sabine shook her head bitterly, remember old times. "But it was a nightmare. I followed orders blindly like any good soldier. Didn't ask questions. But when I _did_ , I got turned down. No one could give me any straight answers, so I found them out for myself."

Sabine exhaled shakily and she closed her eyes. The explosions flitted crossed her closed eyelids. She could see the carnage so clearly..."But it was too late," Sabine whispered. "The Empire used my creation on Mandalore. People that I knew. Everyone I loved."

Sabine looked boldly up at the three Mandalorians, her lip curling in a furious snarl. "You cannot call me a traitor," she said dangerously, her voice low, "until _you_ have stood in the ashes of your biggest mistake... and realized that you'd been played all along."

The Mandalorians in front of her were stunned into silence and Sabine tried unsuccessfully to swallow the emotion that was bubbling up inside her. _They don't understand_ , Sabine realized. _They don't know what I've had to go through to get here._ She might not be the most qualified person to lead the Mandalorians, not by far... but she always cleaned up after her mistakes.

Sabine had unknowingly enslaved her world.

And now it was time to free it.

Sabine whipped out the Darksaber, and showed it's brilliant black blade to the Mandalorians. "I haven't been perfect," Sabine continued. "And I won't be perfect. But Mandalore needs someone to unite them-now more than ever. The Darksaber was used to bring our people together before I was born, and it will do it again." Sabine paused, swallowing hard. "I enslaved Mandalore. But now I have to liberate it… Will you help me?"

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. The tension was tangible in the throne room, and Sabine's hand only tightened on the hilt.

But then, Torian stood from his throne, his head raised high. "I hate the Death Watch," he said, his voice edged with finality. "But I hate the Empire more."

The old man hobbled down the steps. She couldn't believe her eyes when he tossed aside his walking stick and lowered himself to the ground. Torian set his weathered black helmet in front of him as he kneeled and spread his hands apart, palms up.

"I swear," Torian began solemnly, "my life, my clan, and my house, to Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla. May the _manda_ look upon my oath and approve, as I, Torian Ordo of Clan and House Ordo, pledge my allegiance to the new Mand'alor."

Sabine's stared at him, shocked, and only looked up when she heard footsteps in front of her. It was the Clan Kelborn leader.

The man got on his knees next Torian and took his helmet off, revealing a face that was shockingly familiar to Rex. No, _identical._

 _He's a clone,_ Sabine realized.

The Mandalorian set his helmet in front of him, splayed his hands before him, and began with the sacred words as well. "I swear," the clone began seriously, his head bent, "my life, my clan, and my house, to Sabine Wren..."

As soon as the leader of Clan Kelborn finished, the other one, the woman, came and kneeled as well. Once all three of had pledged allegiance to Sabine, they each looked up at her.

" _Par kote bal ijaat be Mand'alor!_ " the leaders shouted in unison.

For glory and honor of sole ruler.

Sabine could feel herself smiling uncontrollably as all three stood up. One thumped her on the back, congratulating her in Mando'a. The other said a quick word of encouragement, before bowing slightly and going out to tell the good news to the rest. When the leaders of Clans Kelborn and Cadera left, Sabine was left alone with Torian.

The old man smiled at her. "Well done, _adiik_."

Sabine bowed slightly. "Thank you, _ruug'la solus."_

Torian flashed her a smile and ushered her forward, leaning heavily on his walking stick as they shuffled on. "Tell me," Torian began, "What do you plan on doing now, Mand'alor?"

Sabine felt her chest puff out in pride at her official title. "I'm going to keep traveling from clan to clan until we've gained enough allies to topple Gar Saxon off of the throne he doesn't deserve."

Torian chuckled and the two walked out the entrance into blinding sunlight. "And when the time for that comes," he said," you can count on Clan Ordo to back you."

Sabine looked out among the sea of differently colored helmets, the light beams bouncing off the T-shaped visors. She was in awe of that many Mandalorians. And all were of Clan Ordo or their close allies; the Kelborns and Caderas.

"These are your people," Torian said wistfully. "These are your soldiers to command, Mand'alor. They will fight for you. Die for you...

 _"All hail the new_ _Mand'alor_ ," Torian whispered

 **That's all for now :) The title of the next chapter is: A Contact in Sundari. I will be handing out virtual space waffles to anyone that can correctly guess the contact, payment through Private Messaging only :P**

 **Specter7 out.**


	11. Chapter 11: A Contact in Sundari

**Greetings, Specter7 here. So we jump into things right from the get-go here so ya better prepare yourself. Also, I'm not totally content on the way the chapter turned out BUT I'm posting it anyway because YOLO!**

 **Also, we've only got a couple short weeks until Rebels ends forever :_( Yet although the show may end my fanfics will not! *raises fist victoriously* Read and...**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 11: Eyes of a Jedi

* * *

"A Jedi shall not know anger. Nor hatred. Nor love."

 _-Jedi proverb_

* * *

Ezra gave Sabine a lopsided grin as she stood before the crowd of Mandalorians. She seemed shocked as the Mandos around him chanted a war cry, their throaty yells bouncing off the courtyard's metal walls. It was in Mando'a, so Ezra only knew bits and pieces, but he could tell it was important. Something about following the Mand'alor.

Ezra felt something unshakable, something strong, turn inside him. It made him smile uncontrollably and made his heart sing.

It was pride.

The good kind of pride, the kind that made Ezra feel centered. He was proud of Sabine for making it this far, for leading her people. He knew it had taken an absurd amount of strength for her to get where she was, and Ezra couldn't be prouder.

The sea of Mandalorians parted for their new Mand'alor as she walked down the steps, her crimson cape sweeping out behind her.

"How'd you do?" Ezra asked Sabine.

She shrugged slightly with a glance over her shoulder. "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "Good, I think. I mean, I got Torian to pledge allegiance along with the two other clan leaders."

Ezra shot her a look. It wasn't like Sabine to be this modest. "I'd say that qualifies as 'good,'" he pointed out.

 _She's probably still unconvinced she'd make a good leader for her people,_ Ezra reasoned. _I don't see what's her hold up though. Sabine's a genius; she's an excellent fighter, a great shot, and a bunch of other stuff. What more should a Mandalorian leader have?_

Sabine looked into the distant absently. "I guess so," she said distractedly.

Ezra was about to ask what was on her mind, when he felt a soft tingle in the back of his neck. It had been there since they had landed on Dxun, and Ezra had tried without success to ignore it.

The tingle was entrancing—tantalizing, even. It swirled around him in an intoxicating storm, trying to provoke raw emotions out of him.

 _The dark side_ , Ezra thought bleakley. Why couldn't it just leave him alone? But no, it insisted on bullying him, trying to seduce him to its primitive ways. Every little thing set out Ezra off now. Anytime Luc would say something stupid, Ezra could hardly stop himself from slamming a fist into his kriffing jaw. He would get _so angry_ with the guy; Ezra would have to step away, not trusting his own emotions.

And now, as he stood in front of Sabine, the dark side pushed at the edges of his mind, beseeching him to indulge on what flitted at the back of his head.

 _Sabine._

The word floated around and Ezra found himself mouthing her name, the dark side influence twisting his emotions into something… _raw._ Powerful. Basic, yet entrancing at the same time.

It was love.

Ezra reared back, as if he'd been slapped. And if Sabine had slapped him then and there, he would have probably had less of a reaction than what he realized.

Love. He… he loved her?

In a way, Ezra already knew he did. He had known Sabine for years and she was his very best friend, his closest confidant. Ezra had already known that, but what he felt… it was _real_ _love._

Ezra blinked and seemed to look at Sabine in a different set of eyes. He noticed the little things about her, the way she was biting her lip… she always did that when she was nervous.

"You okay, Ezra?" Sabine asked with a tilt of her head.

He hardly heard her. Ezra noticed how her dyed white hair had begun to disappear at the roots, being replaced with Sabine's natural dark brown hair. They had been away from the _Ghost_ for too long for her to recolor her hair again.

And Ezra liked it just like that. It was… a little quirk, a slight imperfection that made her all the more perfect. Sabine's beautiful, tan, olive-skinned face was… gorgeous. Gorgeous really, outmatched only by her amber-brown eyes.

 _How could I not have realized this before now?_ Ezra asked himself. _She's… beautiful. A knockout._

Suddenly, Ezra was a lovesick, fourteen year old boy from Lothal again. It was as if he was transported back to those times, where he would constantly try to flirt with her, unable to convey his attraction to Sabine in any other way.

Over the time, Ezra had shown this… this narrow-minded love to her in other ways. When he had stopped flirting with her, they become good friends. And it was the little stuff Ezra did for Sabine that Ezra realized that that love had really never gone away.

It had simply changed form.

And now, the dark side sent tingling shivers down his spine at the thought. Kanan had always taught him that the dark side was evil, that if fueled by emotion, it would consume Ezra.

But if the dark side had shed light on his relationship with Sabine… then maybe it wasn't as bad as Kanan had ranted.

" _Ezra_ ," Sabine said sternly.

As if snapping out of trance, Ezra stumbled back. _What just happened…?_

Sabine stepped closer and they backed away from the crowd of Mandalorians, out of earshot. "Ezra what's wrong?" she asked quietly. "You look terrible."

 _And you look wonderful._

Ezra shook his head violently, running a shaky hand through his hair. _What's wrong with me?_ He thought desperately. His mind was going crazy, racing to places Ezra didn't want it to go.

"We need to leave," he whispered. Ezra gulped forcibly, swallowing something bitter.

"Is it the dark side?" Sabine asked and got even closer to him.

Ezra knew their close proximity was out of concern on her part, but he stumbled away. The dark side was all around him, urging him to not pull away.

"Sabine," he choked, "this place… it's dangerous. I-I can't think straight. We need to leave. We need to leave now."

Ezra watched as Sabine's concerned face nodded quickly. "Okay," she said. "I'll get Arc and the others together and we'll go."

Ezra nodded mutely, not trusting himself to follow her. He watched her walk away and closed his eyes tight.

 _Coward!_ Something angry screamed at Ezra. _Weakling! Are you so feeble as to not pursue her?_

"Not like this," Ezra whispered.

 _Your Jedi training makes you weak_ , the voice spat. _You want power, don't you? How can you protect her and_ not _pursue it?_

Ezra froze as fear gripped his heart. _It's right._ How could he ever have hopes of a life with Sabine… if he wasn't strong enough?

 _No,_ Ezra thought despairingly, beating on the outside of his head. _Not again. I can't feel this again._

Ezra had gone through his bout of dark side influence. He didn't want to go through that again. Ezra had been using the Sith holocron, under the dark side's sway half a year ago. He didn't—couldn't—suffer the same consequences as before.

 _It's this place,_ Ezra thought. _If this really was the burial spot of a Sith… than it's no wonder Dxun's a dark side hotspot._

 _Be that as it may,_ something vicious hissed, making Ezra stiffen. _This moon has simply exposed what was always there, Ezra._

 _Your true feelings._

"It's twisted," Ezra countered shakily. "It's not completely true."

 _But… not completely false either?_

Ezra swallowed and began to walk away. His footsteps became faster until he was running, running back to the crowd of Mandalorians.

 _You can't outrun me!_ The voice shouted from far away in his mind. _I will always be closer than your next breath…_

Ezra sucked in a huge gulp of air as he plunged into the sea of Mandalorians. Finally that nagging, sinister presence left his mind as the Mandos surrounded him.

Ezra tried to navigate among the huge crowd but ended up elbowing at least eight angry-looking Mandalorians, not all human. Ezra stood on his tiptoes, trying to find anyone, any familiar face. Anything to anchor him to the real world and away from the swirling waters of the dark side. Spotting Arc and the others, he jogged up to them.

"Where've you been?" Luc asked, seeming mildly curious.

Ezra wrinkled his nose as his hands twitched. "Nowhere," he muttered.

He watched as Arc took off her helmet, shaking out her dark brown hair. "Kid," Arc began, "you ready? Bean said she wanted everyone loaded up in ten."

"Wait," Luc said suddenly, "we're leaving? _Already?_ We just got here like a couple hours ago!"

Ezra clenched his teeth in aggravation. "You got a problem with that?"

Arc ignored him and shrugged to Luc. "Bean's the boss. If she says we're going, we're going." Arc motioned for the small band of Mandos to follow her and they made their way to a line of speeders near the edge of the stronghold. Ezra was about to follow them, more than ready to get off this planet, when the Force sent a shiver of warning. It wasn't life-threatening but something… something…

"You're leaving."

Ezra spun around at the foreign voice, only to see the elderly Ordo leader. Ezra gave mental sigh and nodded. "Yes,"

"Why?"

Ezra frowned slightly and glanced at the ground. "There's more worlds to go to," he stammered. "More clans to recruit." As he talked, the Padawan could feel the dark side send a tingle up his spine. Ezra didn't know how much longer he would be able to resist it. _We have to leave,_ he thought impatiently.

Torian Ordo silenced his thoughts by laying the tip of his walking staff on Ezra's chest. "Child," he rumbled, "when you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people. I recognized your eyes the moment you stepped into my camp."

Ezra's heart stopped. Torian's piercing gaze was fixed on him, as if… af if…

Torian Ordo pressed his staff harder, pushing Ezra back. "Why did you not reveal your identity?" he growled. "Who else knows about you?"

Ezra's mouth was dry. "What are you talking about?" he breathed, his voice hoarse.

"Your eyes are tortured," Torian continued. "As are the eyes of your kind when they visit Dxun."

Ezra was beginning to realize where the old man was going. He slowly backed up but Torian only advanced, keeping the business end of his walking stick level to Ezra's chest.

"You have the eyes of a Jedi," he whispered.

Ezra's eyes were wide and his hands were balled into fists. _He knows,_ Ezra thought in shock. _He knows!_

Ezra gripped the old man's staff and lowered his voice. "You can't tell anyone," he whispered furiously. "If Arc knew, she'd try to kill me."

Torian Ordo slowly dipped the tip of his walking stick, his lips lifting in the slightest smile. "It's been a while since I've seen your kind," he admitted. "What are you doing here?"

Ezra relaxed slightly. At least Torian didn't seem to want to kill him like Arc did. "I'm with Sabine," he replied. "She needed my help."

Torian seemed amused as he cast a glance over his shoulder at his throne room. "Really?" he said mildly. "Sabine Wren didn't strike me as someone who needed help to make a speech or rally a clan."

Ezra frowned at Torain's inferring tone. "I have to protect her," he growled defensively. "I'm not just gonna let her hop from world to world _without_ me-"

"-Your eyes," Torian interrupted. "I've seen them before, the last time a Jedi visited this place, standing in the same place you were."

Ezra fell silent, waiting for the old man to finish. He seemed to like going off on tangents.

"Four years ago," Torian Ordo continued. "When Arc Wren came to this stronghold and insulted my honor. She brought two Jedi with her."

Ezra paused, not sure his ears had heard him right. "What did you say?"

"A little Jedi and a big one," Torian elaborated. "A master and an apprentice. Arc and those two had the audacity to ask for refuge after the genocide of House Vizsla. I turned them down, of course-but that's besides the point. The little Jedi had your eyes."

Ezra was shocked. "But Arc hates Jedi," he stammered. "S-She killed one…" his voice trailed off. _Oh._

Oh.

Torian Ordo looked confused. "No, no," he said, shaking his head. "Arc wouldn't kill the little Jedi; she had your eyes too."

"What do you mean, _my eyes?_ " Ezra snapped, growing impatient.

"She looked at him the same way you look at _her_ ," Torian said, pointing his walking stick at a certain crimson cloak-wearing Mand'alor. "In fondness. In fierce protection. And… in something more."

Ezra tracked Sabine as she walked past Mandalorians, shaking hands and saying polite goodbyes. He didn't have to finish Torian's sentence-he already knew what he was going to say. _In love._

"Arc fell in love with a Jedi," Ezra breathed, his mind whirling. _So why'd she kill one too? She_ had _to have killed a Jedi to get the blonde Padawan braid… there's no other way._

Torian was nonchalant. "You said it, not me," he said with a shrug.

"Ezra!" Arc called from where she sat on a speeder bike. "Come on!"

The young Padawan looked back to Torian. The old man stuck out his hand, and Ezra shook it. "Your secret is safe," Torian promised, his one good eye narrowed with seriousness.

Ezra hesitated, wanting to say something but not knowing what. He opened his mouth to ask more of what Torian knew of Arc's history with the Jedi, when Sabine stepped in between them.

"Time to go," she said and Ezra knew the moment was lost.

Torian nodded to him and then grasped Sabine's forearm and shook it firmly. "Good luck, Mand'alor. May your reign be plentiful and your campaign victorious."

Sabine nodded stiffly and then motioned to Ezra with a tilt of her head. The two said their last goodbyes to Sabine's subjects and then hopped on the speeders. Ezra's mind was a whirl with information as he commandeered the slight speeder, Sabine gripping his side. _Arc fell in love with a Jedi,_ he thought in disbelief as he swerved to avoid a tree in the dense jungle. Ezra could see the Death Watch leader's helmeted head just in front of him as she drove her own speeder. The idea that someone so fearsome, someone who literally _spit_ when the word 'Jedi' was brought up, had actually fallen in _love_ with one was… was ridiculous!

 _Is it?_ A whispery voice hissed. Ezra stiffened. _Wren fell in love with you, after all._

"Shut up," Ezra growled under his breath.

"What?" Sabine yelled over the wind as their speeder moved.

"Nothing," he recovered quickly. _I don't even think she loves me,_ Ezra told the voice. _Not that it matters right now, anyway. We have a job to do remember? Recruit the Mandalorians._

But then Ezra suddenly became aware of the arm clamped around his waist. And the breath that tickled his left ear. And the heat of Sabine's body behind him.

Ever since they had landed on Dxun it was little things like this that kept distracting Ezra. _Focus,_ he told himself, using the Force to calm his nerves. Kanan had told him that he had to keep a close guard on his feelings or they would run rampant like-

 _Always with Kanan,_ the voice sneered. _Admit it. You're weak without him. Especially in the presence of_ her.

Ezra stayed silent and tried in vain to simply steer the speeder.

 _Why do you cave at the thought of her? Why do you_ refuse _to let your true feelings show?_

Ezra swallowed and shook his head, trying to ignore the presence of the dark side.

 _You cannot run from your emotions, Ezra. You still crave power, even now. You can't let her get hurt. Not like you let Kanan and Ahsoka._

"I won't," Ezra breathed.

 _Without the pursuit of power, how can you do that, then?_

Sabine suddenly leaned closer to his ear, making him jump. "We're almost there!" she yelled over the wind. "The _Mesh'la A'den_ is only a couple more klicks up ahead."

Ezra nodded wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak. The voice's question lingered in his mind. How could Ezra hope to protect Sabine is he wasn't powerful enough?

The voice let him think on that. And the question was in his head for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Ezra popped his knuckles as he sat in the co-pilot's seat, helping Sabine in the rituals of takeoff. As he absently checked a few buttons, primed the fuel compacter, and glanced at the diagnostic screen, he heard Luc speak.

"So," Luc was saying, "We got Clan Ordo to follow Sabine, along with Clans Cadera and Kelborn. What now?"

No one answered for a moment.

"Maybe we should go to Kalevala," Fenn Rau suggested.

The name sounded familiar and Ezra was pretty sure it was a planet in Mandalorian territory.

"I know a few rebel sympathizers who would be more willing to join you," Rau continued.

"It's the Mand'alor's choice," Kor pointed out, turning to Sabine. "What do you have in mind?"

Ezra swiveled in his seat. He wanted to hear this.

Sabine hesitated. "I've heard of pockets of rebellion on Concordia against the Empire," she said. "And if they hate the Imperials already, that's one step closer to our cause."

Ezra nodded along with the others. It was settled then. As he started to turn back to the console, Arc piped up.

"Not that I disagree," she said carefully, "but I had an idea about our next move."

Ezra watched as Sabine arched an eyebrow. "…Go on," she said cautiously.

Arc inhaled deeply and set her weathered dark green helmet on one of the seats. "Your campaign is considered treachery against the Empire," Arc began. "And I believe that _that_ is the heart of our problems; the Empire."

Luc snorted. "You're just figuring this out?"

"Let me finish," Arc snapped. "And although the Empire occupies most Mandalorian worlds, the core of the problem lies in our capital."

"Sundari," Kor said grimly.

Arc nodded. "Right. So, Sabine, I was thinking… what if you went there? You and half of us. The other half can go recruit the other rebels on Kalevala and Concordia while you're in Sundari and work there from the inside."

"We're splitting up?" Luc asked.

"We would cover more ground," Arc argued. "Besides, Bean won't need all of us to do what I have in mind."

"And what _do_ you have in mind?" Fenn Rau asked suspiciously.

Arc shot him a look before turning to Sabine. "…I have a contact in Sundari," Arc continued hesitantly. "She's been supplying information to me and the Death Watch while we camped out on the other side of Mandalore. I figured the rest of you would meet her and she would brief you on everything that's been happening with the Imps'."

"Who is it?" Ezra asked suddenly, speaking for the first time in their Mandalorian conversation. He didn't really get what was going on, but he remembered Sabine mentioning Sundari before.

Arc seemed to hesitate again before she spoke. And when she did, Ezra watched confusedly as Sabine's eyes widened and Kor leapt out of his seat.

"My contact in Sundari," Arc restated, and the nest words seemed to be forcibly pulled out of her mouth, "…is Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze."

* * *

"Auntie Bo?" Kor exclaimed, standing up

Sabine wasn't as ecstatic as the blonde-haired man, but she was just as intrigued. Lady Bo-Katan Kryze was a well-known Mandalorian. The Death Watch second-in-command-turned-freedom-fighter was famous for battling alongside a Jedi named Obi-Wan Kenobi against Darth Maul, when the Zabrak had wanted to rule Mandalore. Although Sabine had never met Bo-Katan, when she was younger, she had always wanted to meet the fabled Mandalorian who had been bold enough to find where her true loyalties lay.

Arc smacked the heel of her hand on her forehead, as if trying to knock some sense into her brain. "Of course," Arc said suddenly. "I nearly forgot you two were related."

But Kor seemed to still be reeling from the information. "One of your informants was my aunt and you never even _told_ me?" he exploded. "I'm your second-in-command, Arc!"

Sabine's cousin tilted her head. "It's not anything personal, Kor," Arc said, seeming confused. "I have to keep my contacts' secrets or it would compromise their identity."

Sabine watched as Luc stepped forward. "Bo-Katan has been living in Sundari for decades," he said, "but we don't have her exact location." Luc shot Arc a look as he added, "Heh. She likes to keep almost as many secrets as you."

"You told _him?!_ " Kor burst, gesturing wildly to Luc.

Sabine didn't speak the whole time, entranced with how open Kor was being with his emotions. Usually, he was closed in and closed off, keeping his opinions to himself. Mentioning "Auntie Bo" must have him strained.

"I found out myself," Luc said before Arc could answer the enraged Mando. "That's besides the point, though. My point is that even _if_ we go to Sundari to rally the Mandalorians there to our side… there's no guarantee we'll find Bo-Katan anytime soon. She's kept her location a secret for years, anonymously striking out against the Empire."

Ezra spoke up. "But isn't Sundari just _one_ city?" he inquired. "How long can it take to find a rebel in there?"

"A whole lot longer than you think," Luc shot back.

Sabine glanced at the blonde Mandalorian, wishing he wasn't so on edge. "Sundari," Sabine began slowly to Ezra, "Is gigantic. It's not just _one city._ It's the capital of all the Mandalorian worlds. It houses several million people in that one biodome."

Ezra looked surprised. "Oh."

Fenn Rau stood up suddenly. "So," he said with a slight shrug, "it isn't the easiest task. But, if you, Mand'alor, were able to convince someone like Bo-Katan to follow _you?_ "

Sabine swallowed.

Rau simply smiled. "Then who's to say the rest of the citizens in Sundari wouldn't?"

Arc jumped in. "Just my point," she added. "The Empire is the heart of the problem. After all, you're "Mand'alor the Free," Bean. The Empire is what you're freeing us _from._ "

Sabine closed her eyes, trying to focus on what they were saying. "Hold up," she said, massaging her temples. "So, Arc… what you're saying is that you want _me_ to go to Sundari, find Bo-Katan in the middle of millions of people, get the citizens to follow _me_ , and then start an uprising in the heart of Mandalore."

Arc nodded affirmatively.

"Don't forget we're splitting up," Luc added glumly.

Fenn Rau spoke again. "I agree with Arc," he said decisively. "Your cousin and I could go to Concordia and rally the Mandalorians there to your cause, while you address the heart of the problem."

Arc looked surprised. "Wait, I'm leaving?"

"It was your idea," Rau said simply. "Plus, if we're to go to Concordia you'll need another ship. And with your record, I doubt Torian Ordo will loan you one without my influence."

Arc twisted her lips and muttered something under her breath. "Well," she said eventually, "I guess Kor could stay with the rest of you to help find Bo-Katan. He _is_ her nephew after all. She would have a better chance of following you if Kor could convince her it would be a good idea."

Sabine thought for a moment longer, before shrugging mentally. Why not? What Arc was suggesting—about going to the heart of the problem—was most likely much more proficient rather than going to Concordia like Sabine had planned.

Sabine stepped to the control panel of the _Mesh'la A'den_ , leaning against it. She looked out of the view port, absently glancing over Dxun's heavily wooded forest, thinking hard.

"Mand'alor?" Kor asked softly.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man, and her mouth moved before she even contemplated the words. "Kor, Luc, Ezra… Buckle up, 'cause we're going to Sundari."

Korkie Kryze's face broke out in a smile, the biggest she'd ever seen on him. Luc looked a bit grumpy, and Ezra looked equally grumpy—probably because they were stuck with each other on another _manda_ knows how long trip.

"Arc," Sabine said, "take the speeders back to Torian's place and see if he'll loan you and Rau a ship. Message me when you get to Concordia."

Arc bit her lip and jiggled the weathered green helmet under her arm. "Alright," she said eventually, and Sabine began finishing up the pre-liftoff rituals. "Just, ah, stay safe in Sundari, okay? By personal experience, I know Bo-Katan can be a bit unforgiving at times."

Sabine frowned at Arc's seemingly light tone and she turned to look at her cousin. Worry was etched all over her face. "...We'll see each other again," Sabine assured her slowly.

She watched as Arc glanced at the ground and Sabine moved to her. "I know," the lean woman mumbled. "I just… I..." Arc seemed to be fighting for what to say. She finally inhaled deeply and briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were back to back to being emotionless. "Take care of yourself," she said briskly.

Sabine gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Always do," she quipped.

Arc hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more, before nodding in a business-like manner. She turned to go and Sabine gave a quick eye-roll, catching her arm. "We'll be fine," she insisted. "Just because you're not hovering over me for a couple days doesn't mean I'm gonna get myself killed. Okay?"

Arc seemed to relax and even managed a quick grin. "'Kay. See ya Bean."

Arc slipped on her hemelt and walked out the _Mesh'la A'den_. Fenn Rau watched her leave before turning to Sabine and nodding a farewell.

"Make sure she doesn't blow up anything," Sabine told the man and he caught her underlying tone.

 _Take care of her while I'm gone,_ was what she meant.

Rau placed a heavy hand on her shoulders. "Mand'alor," he said with teasing regalty. "I am honorbound to your wishes."

Sabine gave him a smile and Rau followed the Death Watch leader out, leaving her with Kor, Luc, and Ezra.

"Alright then," Ezra piped up, turning to the ship's control panel.

Sabine could see the teen's foot tapping impatiently as he prepped for liftoff. She assumed he was still on edge from the dark side influence he said he'd sensed.

Things were moving too fast for Sabine, but still, her hands moved on their own accord as she methodically closed the ship's hatch, checked the compressor, engaged the thrusters, and eased the yoke up.

The freighter wobbled in response, slowly rising above the skyscraper-tall trees. Sabine stared up at Dxun's painted sky, seeing the stars slowly reveal themselves in the evening light. "Bo-Katan Kryze," she whispered. "Here we come."

* * *

 **So the "Contact in Sundari" was Bo-Katan and, as promised, the correct guesser of the contact's identity was awarded with virtual space waffles. Congratulations to GreyWolf93!**

 **Welp that's all for now but if you like the story, give me a fav/follow and tell me what you think in reviews!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	12. Chapter 12: Old Memories

**Yes, your eyes do not** **deceive you. After 9 months of procrastinating, postponing and ignoring this story, I finally worked up enough inspiration to update. I'd like to apologize for the long wait; I hit some big roadblocks concerning the plot and the new canon material with Rebels finishing out their final season. ((By the way, so sad and beautiful, many tears were shed :") But it's all good))**

 **Um, anyway... gosh, how do you bounce back from such a late update? Welp, I'd encourage some of my old followers to go back and reread the past chapter for a little refresher before unwrapping this one. Sorry for the long A/N by the way.**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 12: Old Memories

* * *

"There was one of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other."

 _-Harriet Tubman_

* * *

Ezra was staring at nothing in particular, lost in thought, whenever Luc threw a wad of clothes at his face.

Ezra started and yanked the shirt off of his head. "What's this?"

"Disguises," Luc answered. "Kor's orders."

Ezra knit his brows. "It's just a plain blue shirt. Why—"

Luc cut him off by tossing an oversized brown jacket at his face. "The New Mandalorian presence is still heavy in Sundari," he said. "They're all pacifists—so if we came in wearing armor, then we'd draw attention."

Ezra, Luc, and Sabine were grounded on the _Mesh'la A'den,_ parked in one of Sundari's giant landing pads as they had been waiting for Kor to get back with their new clothes. Kor had mentioned needing to blend in with the "New Mandalorian" crowds, but Ezra thought it would have been a little more… fashionable.

Ezra scanned the oversized jacket Luc had tossed him. It looked like it had seen a lot of firefights—judging by the blaster burns. _Nice enough,_ Ezra thought grudgingly.

Luc caught him eyeing the jacket. "That was an aviator's jacket. You can tell by the paneling on the sleeves."

Ezra grunted noncommittally, not wanting Luc to know that he secretly liked it. The leather was soft and worn and there were several hidden pockets on the inside. "Where's Sabine?" he said instead.

"Changing in the refresher," Luc replied, beginning to slip off his Mandalorian body stocking and tug on his "disguise," which was really just a faded blue top with big black Mando'a lettering across the chest.

After Ezra was done changing, he looked in the long mirror hanging up on the wall of the _Mesh'la A'den's_ guest room. Brown boots a size to big, belt and Mandalorian jacket of the same color, and then navy pants and shirt—if either of the latter were any tighter, they would be cutting off his blood circulation.

Ezra tugged at the V-neck that arched below his collar bone. "Y'know, this really isn't my style. Are all Mandalorian clothes this tight?"

"Pretty much," Luc said, strapping a leather pack to his belt. He was wearing a navy compression shirt too.

Ezra was still fiddling with it whenever Luc went to leave. "Ugh," Ezra choked, "how do you people breathe?"

Luc grabbed him by the jacket's high collar. "C'mon."

Sabine and Kor were waiting for them in the commons room. Obviously, Sabine had gotten the better hand concerning the clothes. For one, she wasn't dressed in all navy like Ezra and Luc were. Sabine had changed out of her armor and into a baggy charcoal-colored shirt that was tucked into dark blue pants. Her black boots came almost up to her knees, and her arms were bare, exposing her olive skin and harsh tan line.

"…Hey," Ezra stuttered. He silently kicked himself. Seriously? Still, it was the first time in a long time since he had seen Sabine out of her armor. In regular clothes and with her hair almost its natural color, Sabine seemed… different. More familiar. More approachable. Less I'm-gonna-kill-you-'cause-I'm-a-Mando.

"Real smooth," Luc whispered to him.

Ezra shot him a glare but Kor spoke up before he could hit him. "If we're done here, we should get going. I have a few safe houses that we can check for my aunt."

Instead of wearing casual Mandalorian clothes like the rest of them, Kor was fitted in a slimming Imperial officer's uniform with that classic low bill hiding his baby blue eyes.

"Nice disguise," Ezra said dryly. "Very… Mandalorian."

Kor ignored him and pinned the multicolored badge to his lapel. "Imperials have checkpoints all throughout Sundari. If an officer is escorting citizens, they don't have to get their I.D.s checked."

"Which is good for us," Luc said, "because we don't have any."

"Right."

Ezra smirked. There was one tiny detail that Kor had overlooked. "Right," he drawled as he exited the ship. "But, ah, doesn't your aunt hunt Imperials?"

Kor paused.

"I mean," Ezra continued, "that would be bad luck if we happened to run into her or something. Which… consequently, is what we're trying to do. We'll just have to hope that she doesn't shoot on sight. Tell me, Kor: is your aunt levelheaded?"

Luc snickered as he walked down the ramp and Sabine patted Kor's shoulder. "Don't worry," Sabine said, a smile in her voice. "I'm sure Bo-Katan will be able to recognize you in that uniform. Never mind that she hasn't seen you in years, or that that hat covers up half of your face, or that she's famed for having a livid hate against Imperials—"

"Alright," Kor interrupted, stomping out of the ship. "I get it."

Ezra discreetly high-fived Sabine behind the grumpy old man's back. _We are the paragon of teamwork,_ Ezra thought cheekily. _Nothing like roasting your chaperone._

Ezra had been too busy thinking about teasing Kor that he hadn't noticed they walked out of the hangar. When he did, his mouth dropped.

Skyscrapers like mountains rose all around him. Hoards of people milled along the streets and steady streams of speeders zoomed overhead. Everything was so crowded that it was making Ezra claustrophobic just looking it. The buildings were literally on top of one another—branching out into more buildings like… like trees or something. Horizontal buildings branching off of vertical ones and vertical ones branching off of those!

"You know what," Ezra said in a small voice, "I think I'll just wait in the ship…"

Sabine slapped a hand on his back before he could turn around. "Nope."

He swallowed. _Bo-Katan could be anywhere,_ Ezra thought despairingly.

How in the name of the Force were they going to find one person among so many others?

* * *

Sabine's hands were balled into fists as she walked along Sundari's streets. Every few feet, a billboard was posted on a pole, and flickering on its screen was the Empire's logo. Propaganda flimsi was plastered on the buildings' walls, urging the Mandalorians to "Join the Empire's finest! Become an Imperial Supercommando!"

Sabine was disgusted. She had once walked along these streets, saw those flyers and felt pride swell in her heart. Now, there was only hate. Bitter, cold, repulsing hate. The Emperor was a liar. He had enslaved her people, when he had sworn to save them. The Empire occupied her homeworld and the squads of stormtroopers proved it.

Sabine ducked her head as several of the bucketheads walked by, feeling her fingers twitch in the instinct to toss a few paint bombs their way.

"It's gotten worse," Sabine muttered as she looked at the thousands of Mandalorians in her sight.

Before, when she'd been a cadet at the Imperial Academy, Sundari had been loosely controlled. The Empire had pretty much kept their distance, letting the Mandalorians rule themselves. There had been a few propaganda billboards here, a squad of stormtroopers there, but _now…_

The Imperial flag hung in every intersection, every pole, every major facility. Imperial Supercommandos flew across the sky, wearing that blank white color proudly.

Those Mandalorians were traitors. They had willingly joined the Empire and defiled the Mandalorian code. They were as good as _dar'manda_ -soulless.

Sabine glared at one of the Mandos as he flew over her head. " _Aruetii_ ," she spat to him. She was almost disappointed the Imperial Supercommando didn't hear her.

Sabine suddenly stopped.

In front of her was what looked like the remains of a barrack. The roof was caved in and the walls bore carbon scoring. Grimy ash was streaked on the walls, and the barrack looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Sabine narrowed her eyes. The ash.

Sabine knew this place.

Her weapon was the thing that had destroyed it.

...

...

...

" _It's too late!"_

" _No…"_

" _Sabine, we have to go!"_

" _No… I… I did this."_

" _We can't change anything now! Come on, little sister!"_

Sabine slowly turned to Ketsu, feeling completely empty. "I did this," she repeated. The words sunk in and Sabine looked at the fires raging across Sundari, her heart racing.

At fourteen years old, she had developed a weapon on a dare that had cracked a two-thousand year old mystery. Sabine had discovered that although beskar was impossible to destroy, it happened to conduct a high amount of electricity, meaning that it could be superheated to an insane degree.

Sabine was cursing herself over and over again for her brilliance and her stupidity. Arrogance had blinded her to the Empire's true purpose for developing the weapon and now, Sabine's people were paying for it.

The Duchess was just a prototype, but in a matter of days, it had been replicated and distributed throughout Sundari. Every walker, every gun tower, every barrack, had her weapon mounted on it. Sabine had been horrified.

She had warned her family; warned them they planned to use it. And what did they do? They had turned her into the Empire as a deserter. Sabine had been sitting helplessly in a jail cell for the past day, watching the fires rage and smelling the sharp scent of smoke and burning flesh. Ketsu had just busted her out moments ago and shot the guards.

They were on the run now, racing along the streets of Sundari and dodging stormtroopers. The Academy was overrun with armored Mandalorians, trying to fight back against the Imperials. But it was hopeless and Sabine knew it.

Ketsu suddenly tackled her. "Get down!"

A stray rocket zoomed overhead and exploded into an Imperial barrack full of stormtroopers, sending billows of black smoke into the air. The Duchess was mounted atop the barrack and its lights began to dim and the motor died down.

Sabine shielded her face from the raging fire that was beginning to consume the barrack. But on the side of it, she could just barely make out the blocky white numbers.

 _006_

Sabine narrowed her eyes. Wasn't that Daalor's… The thought was left unfinished in her head, because she immediately surged forward, tears already pricking her eyes.

"Sabine!" Ketsu barked after her. "What are you—"

"It's Daalor!" Sabine called over her shoulder, her voice breaking. "This was Daalor's division!"

 _Please don't be dead,_ Sabine thought to herself, her heart pounding in her chest. _You can't be dead._

The smoke was thick and it curled around Sabine's body, enveloping her in the blanket of black. Sabine coughed violently and tried not to breathe in the acrid scent of it. She ran to the barrack's blast-proof windows and pounded on them.

"Daalor!" Sabine yelled, her voice hoarse. "Daalor—" Sabine's cry ended with a bout of hacking.

An icy cold hand latched on to Sabine's and Ketsu began to drag her away. "Come on—"

 _BAM!_ Hands pounded against the blast-proof glass on the other side.

Sabine's heart gave a leap of joy. It was Daalor!

The gangly boy tore off his cadet helmet and his long, dark hair tumbled free. The braid the instructors had forced him to keep it in had come undone, and his blue eyes weren't twinkling with laughter like usual; they were wide with panic. "Sabine!" Daalor exclaimed, his voice muffled. "Ketsu!"

Sabine could have cried right there on the spot.

Ketsu's grip on her wrist slackened. "Daalor!"

Sabine rushed to the window and felt around it, groping wildly in the thick smoke. "There has to be an opening," she said, her throat beginning to close. "Or a—a door. Something!"

Ketsu helped her look for a way to get Daalor out. But blocks of duracrete had fallen and now encased the barrack like a grave. And the fire getting even hotter now.

"Sabine," Ketsu whispered. Her voice had an edge to it that Sabine didn't like.

"No," Sabine hissed. "We have to find a way in! W-We…"

Suddenly, a high-pitched whine like frequency feedback began to grow louder. Sabine winced. What was that sound—

Oh kriff.

Sabine knew that sound.

She was the one who had designed it.

Sabine's head snapped upwards to the Duchess. The machine was whirring and the engine was growing white-hot.

Sabine scrambled to her feet. "It's gonna blow!"

Daalor hammered against the glass, stricken with panic. "Sabine!" He yelled, his voice muffled. "Sabine this barrack was designed by Mandalorians before the Imperials took it over!"

"…What?"

Daalor pounded the glass with a fist. " _This structure is made of beskar!_ "

Sabine reeled when the realization caught up to her. She had know the Empire could be stupid, but to purposefully put a weapon that superheated beskar on top of a beskar barrack was a whole new level of idiocy.

Sabine looked at the Duchess, which was only seconds away before misfiring, then back to Daalor. The frantic look in his eyes was being replaced with one of disbelief, and then betrayal. He knew why she was hesitating.

Daalor began to back away from the glass and Sabine felt a stab of guilt before running back to it anyway. "Daalor!" She called, coughing from the smoke. "Daalor, get out of there!"

Ketsu grabbed her under the arms and began to yank her away. "C'mon little sister, we have to go!"

Sabine struggled in her grasp. "We can't leave him!"

"We don't have a choice!"

All at once, the Duchess' whining jumped an octave and bolts of electricity shot from the motor, latching onto the beskar barrack. The structure hummed with energy and Sabine couldn't un-hear the dying screams of the stormtroopers forever locked inside.

And Sabine knew, Sabine _knew_ , that Daalor was one of them.

Daalor was part of the small family she had had at the Academy. Her "big brother," just like Ketsu was her "big sister." And she had left him to die.

And even better, it was _her_ weapon that had killed him. That was killing him right this second! Slow agony as his skin began to superheat and then in a snap of the fingers—boom. A pile of ashes.

Sabine curled up in a ball on the ground, tucking her trembling hands close to her heart. Her body was racked with sobs and the will to push on—to even live—was gone in that moment; stolen from her in one foul swoop.

Ketsu grabbed her wrist. "Wipe your tears, little one," Ketsu hissed under her breath. "There is a time and place for sentimentality—and that place is _not_ on the battlefield."

Sabine let Ketsu drag her up and shove her onto her feet. Sabine's legs moved but each step was dull and distant. No, the Sabine Wren she knew had died that day; died right beside Daalor Ordo. The thing that had gotten up in her place was not Sabine.

No, that thing was not much of anything, anymore...

...

...

...

Sabine blinked hard and her vision focused to the charred structure in front of her. She walked to the half-destroyed barrack in dream-like slowness and slid her hand along the faded white numbers: _006_. Her fingers came back stained black with ash.

"Sabine."

In the back of her head, she knew Ezra was calling her. But she couldn't even focus on his voice. _I did this,_ Sabine thought despairingly. _I did this._

Her creation had destroyed countless lives. Had killed Daalor, among other friends. Neighbors. Family members. All of them, gone.

Sabine had enslaved her people.

She could feel Ezra sliding his hand into hers, working her fingers from the tight fist she had them in. Sabine grabbed her best friend's hand, trying frantically to anchor herself. _It was a long time ago,_ Sabine reasoned with herself. _Things have changed._

And as Sabine opened her eyes again, she watched helplessly as the Imperial flag hung next to the barrack, waving in the wind.

 _Yeah,_ Sabine agreed with herself sadly. _Yeah, they sure as kriff have._

* * *

Sabine's feet dragged as she walked along Sundari's streets. It had been… six hours? Seven, maybe? However long it had been since they started this half-baked search, it felt like _more_ than seven hours. Sabine's feet ached from walking along the duracrete roads and her head was pounding.

Sabine had continued to have endless memories from the past plague her mind. The screams of the dead echoed in her ears, even now. How had one girl managed to enslave a warrior culture with over a thousand planets and moons under Mandalorian control?

If someone had asked her that question, Sabine would have laughed. Then, she would remember… _Wait,_ I _did that._

Yeah… Sabine tended to make the impossible possible often.

Yet now, Sabine was exhausted. Flashbacks and memories continued to flood her, nearly bringing tears to her eyes or a smile to her lips. She had walked these roads nearly five years ago, and they still held memories. Sometimes good… but mostly bad.

And it didn't help that they had been looking for Bo-Katan for hours upon end, with no food or breaks. Kor had checked out all the places he said he knew, yet they still didn't have even an inkling of a thought as to where the elusive lady was.

"Kor," Sabine heard Luc whine, "we gotta stop. I'm exhausted."

Sabine waited for Ezra to snap at Luc, to tell him to man up, but nothing came. Sabine glanced over to see a hunched over Ezra, yawning.

Kor saw the three exhausted young adults, and he seemed surprised. "Right," he said, shaking his head. "Yes, of course. I, uh, I know somewhere we can eat."

Thirty minutes later, Sabine was seated in a booth next to Ezra and the rest as a waiter brought them their food. She closed her eyes, breathing in the heavy steam that rose off of the hot meal and the musty scents of the pitstop they were in.

The pitstop had a cozy, comfortable feel to it but Sabine wasn't fooled. The person behind the counter was nervous and continually checked to make sure the Imperial holonet was playing. Sabine also didn't miss the angry glares people gave Kor as the man strut in wearing his Imperial officer uniform.

 _Mandalore is broken,_ she thought hollowly. _The heart of my culture is… enslaved._

Sabine looked down at her food, suddenly nauseous. How could she eat leisurely while Mandalorians worked hard without pay in the Imperial factories? While Mandalore's children were forced to go to the Empire's academies? While Sabine's people were dead? While their blood cried out for vengeance?

 _They need me,_ Sabine realized. _I left them to deal with my mistake… I left them when they needed me most._

Sabine let her food grow cold as her stomach turned uncomfortably.

"Hey," Ezra said softly, "you're not hungry?"

Sabine swallowed. "Not anymore."

Ezra seemed to hesitate, before pushing her plate closer to her. "You have to eat, Sabine. I know you're hungry."

Sabine bit her lip. She _knew_ she would feel guilty if she even touched her food. "Ezra," she whispered. "How can I eat knowing my people can't? My people are slaves to the Empire… I can't just sit here and _ignore_ what's happening…" Sabine shook her head, unable to continue.

Ezra paused briefly. "We're not ignoring it," he said finally. "We're liberating them, remember? But they need a strong Mand'alor, Sabine. You have to keep your strength up."

Sabine hesitated, before grudgingly consenting. "I guess so."

The pitstop bustled with activity as Sabine ate, yet the food seemed tasteless in her mouth. All she could think about were the memories in Sundari. All she could think about were the screams… the smell of burning glass, duracrete, metal, human flesh…

Sabine forcibly swallowed. Once her stomach had been filled up with just enough food to make it through the rest of the day, Sabine turned her attention to the holodeck in the center of the pitstop as a familiar voice emitted from the speaker.

"… _mines are progressing well,"_ Gar Saxon said from the holodeck. His rough and stubble-abundant face was contorted in his version of a smile. " _More and more_ beskar _is being uncovered everyday. However, remember, citizens, if someone you know is working in the Imperial mines, it was because they forced my hand into action. Rebellion will_ not _be tolerated in Mandalore. We follow our Emperor whole-heartedly and serve him with our strength and independent spirit._

"Par kote bal ijaat be te _emperor, " S_ axon cried in Mando'a.

" _Par kote bal ijaat be te_ emperor," the people in the pitstop echoed hollowly.

Sabine clenched her jaw, turning away from the holodeck, and tuned out the rest of Saxon's dull words. FOR GLORY AND HONOR OF THE EMPEROR. That was what Gar Saxon had shouted in Mando'a. That chant was reserved strictly for the Mand'alor only—for the sole ruler only. Saxon was proclaiming the emperor as Mandalore's sole ruler. It was downright disgraceful.

Sabine was sick to her stomach. What had Saxon done to Mandalore? To _her_ Mandalore?

Fierce anger swelled up in her against Saxon. _He_ had done this to her people. _He_ had forced them to work in the mines, _he_ had wiped out the blossoming flower of rebellion, of _hope._ Saxon had outlawed artistic expression and the privilege to think for one's self.

If Mandalore was a tree, Saxon was a vine. He curled around the tree, constricting it, minimizing growth… He sucked all the life out of it until the tree was nothing but a husk of its former self.

That was _exactly_ the way Mandalore was now.

Sabine stood up suddenly, smacking her hands on the table. "That's _it_ ," she hissed to no one in particular. Sabine ignored her companions' stares as she stormed out of the pitstop angrily, shoving people aside.

 _I_ hate _Gar Saxon,_ she thought viciously as she walked into Sundari's "fresh" air. _He did this to my people. He enslaved them!_ My _people!_

"Sabine?" a voice asked hesitantly.

Sabine bristled and turned away from the voice. "Not now, Ezra," she growled. Sabine crossed her arms and began to walk away. _Kriffing Saxon,_ she fumed. _I'm gonna kill him. I'll give his kriffing unhygienic face a shave with the Darksaber._

 _Starting just below the chin._

"You can't run off like that and think no one's going to come after you," he protested.

Sabine aggravatedly glanced at Ezra over her shoulder. He was still following her? "I need to be alone," she said shortly.

Sabine watched Ezra sigh, then stop. "Okay," he relented. "Just tell me what's going on. You've been acting weird since we landed."

Sabine turned from the boy and looked out at Sundari's busy streets and glowing lampposts. It was beautiful, in a way. In all the busyness of Sundari it still felt like home. Like the old days when she was innocent and naïve.

She swallowed. "Today's… brought back some memories," Sabine said slowly. "I don't want to talk about it."

She expected the onslaught of questions and badgering from Ezra, but nothing of the sort came. "I understand," Ezra said simply. "Empire Day brings back stuff like that for me. But just know, Sabine, that I'm here for you."

Sabine sighed heavily, feeling just an ounce of the weight that was on her shoulders lift. Her constricted chest eased ever so slightly at the thought of her best friend, supporting her all the way.

Sabine turned back to Sundari's busy streets, closing her eyes as the wind from the speeders whipped pass her. "I know," she said quietly.

And they simply left it at that.

* * *

Ezra sat against the wall, unable to fall asleep. It was dark in the small room and he could just barely see Sabine's silhouette in the far corner, curled up in a ball on the bed.

Kor had suggested stopping for the night several hours ago and they had settled down in a hotel room. Apparently, Kor had spent too many credits on clothes for them and they hadn't had enough currency to get more than one room. So, as a result, Sabine got the only bed—per Kor's orders. And, of course, the great and mighty Kor got the extra covers to make a satisfactory pallet in the darkest corner of the room, while Luc and Ezra had to sleep on the itchy carpet with a few complimentary towels as pillows.

Ezra had slept with worse (he had been a lowly Loth-rat for over seven years living on the streets), but for some reason, he couldn't sleep now. Well, not for some reason; he knew why.

Sabine.

Ezra always called on the Force to soothe him when he couldn't get to bed or nightmares plagued his mind. But this time it wasn't working, because _Sabine,_ with her cloudy, chaotic brew of stormy emotions, was blocking him from fully opening up himself to the Force. Her bright, warm presence was almost always a distraction to Ezra's Jedi training. But _this_ time? It was downright _impossible_ to focus on the Force when he could sense such a gut-wrenching turmoil inside Sabine.

 _Would you just sleep?_ Ezra thought grumpily to Sabine, even though the troubled girl couldn't hear him. Ezra could sense that her conflicted emotions were causing her to teeter on the thin line between sleep and consciousness.

Ezra sighed. Knowing the girl wouldn't get her beauty sleep in if he didn't intervene, Ezra crawled over to the edge of Sabine's bed. He grabbed her tightly closed fist and stilled her twitching arm.

Working her fingers out of the ball Sabine had clenched them in, Ezra held her hand, sending the Force into her.

The calming presence had the intended purpose. Ezra could feel her relax under his hold and her body finally stop jerking with nightmares. He pushed the light side of the Force harder, sending an overflow of peace into her weary, sleep-deprived body.

The Force washed over Ezra as well and he sat on the floor, his back to the bed, holding Sabine's hand loosely as he used the Force to calm them both and welcome them into the sweet, blissfulness of sleep.

* * *

 **That's all for now, folks! I *should* have the next chapter updated in less than two weeks. Thanks to everyone for being patient and sticking this story out with me! I always read all my reviews and appreciate every one of them ^^**

 **As always, give me a little fav/follow if you like the story and tell me what you thought about this chapter (or predictions for future chapters) in the comments section below!**

 **Thanks again; Specter7 out.**


	13. Chapter 13: Finding Bo-Katan

**Howdy, strangers. Specter7 here. I wanted to dedicate this chapter to my little brother,** **who has always wanted me to dedicate something to him XD Your welcome lil' bro.**

 **Hey, and Christmas is right around the corner! I wish all of my followers a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year ;)**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 13: Finding Bo-Katan

* * *

"People only bring up your past when they are intimidated by your present."

- _Unknown_

* * *

Sabine dreamed of Daalor again.

Ketsu was there too, and the three of them were in the Imperial Academy's lush courtyard sitting of one of the many picnic benches strewn out along the grassy area. Sabine was watching a set of bluebirds flitter across the sky when Daalor spoke.

"I've been thinking," he was saying.

Next to Sabine, Ketsu shoved him good-naturely. "That's never a good sign."

"Self-ironing uniform," Daalor continued. "It unwrinkles itself throughout the day so that your clothes are never creased." He looked past Ketsu to Sabine. "Whad'ya think? Can you invent that?"

"I only invent good ideas," Sabine said matter-of-factly.

"Exactly! So when can I expect this?" Daalor was twisting himself to look down at his crumpled uniform, which Sabine expected had laid in a heap on the floor before he put it on that morning. "'Cause, as you can see, I'm quite desperate."

Ketsu snorted. "Quite."

The two began to talk and Sabine looked down at the plate of food in her lap. The Academy's cafeteria issued some of the blandest pile of mashed potatoes that she'd ever tasted. _Maybe I should invent something to help those guys out_ , Sabine thought, only half-kidding. She half-heartedly licked some of the white gunk off her spoon. _A little seasoning wouldn't kill anyone._

Sabine glanced over at Ketsu and Daalor, who were sitting to her right. They were chatting and Sabine watched Ketsu playfully kick his feet and then throw her head back with a laugh even though Daalor's joke wasn't that funny.

Sabine rolled her eyes and made gagging sounds. At thirteen-years-old, she hadn't been plagued with the intense attraction Ketsu had for Daalor. The lovebirds were both sixteen and made goo-goo eyes at each other every five minutes.

 _Love,_ Sabine thought to herself. _Disgusting._

"When I get older," Sabine announced, "I'm never liking someone."

Daalor and Ketsu turned to her. "What makes you say that?" Daalor asked. He seemed genuinely curious while Ketsu arched a thick brow disbelievingly.

Sabine thumped her chest and straightened in an attempt to imitate her stoic mother. "Because," she said in a feigned deep voice, "Mandalorians are strong; hardcore. And love makes you weak. Vulnerable. I'll never love someone."

Daalor smiled at her endearingly but Ketsu snorted. "Good luck with that," she muttered.

* * *

 ** _Sundari, Mandalore. 0600 hours._**

The dream faded and Sabine woke with a start. For a moment, she had a hard time remembering where she was. She wasn't in her dorm room at the Imperial Academy. No... that had been years ago. She wasn't on the _Ghost_ , or even the _Mesh'la A'den._

Sabine looked around the small hotel room. Kor's huddled form was curled in a dark corner while Luc was splayed out on the floor, using a bundle of towels as a pillow. There was no sunlight that leaked through the drab gray drapes, which meant it was still early morning. Sabine's lips felt chapped from the fan that spun lazily on the ceiling and her legs shifted under the thin sheets, sore from all the walking the day before. Her left hand was slick with sweat while her right was frigid from being above the covers.

Sabine frowned blearily and looked to her left. A different hand was holding that one, a hand much larger than hers with scarred knuckles from years of living on the streets.

Sabine leaned farther up to see who the hand was attached to. Ezra was next to her bed, slumped against the frame and cradling her hand like it was the most delicate thing in the world. He was still asleep and every feather-soft exhale landed on the back of her hand, making her shiver.

It was too early in the morning to know whether or not to react, or to even know what the proper reaction was. Sabine blinked. She felt surprisingly indifferent. Whenever she'd gone to bed the night before, Ezra had been curled up on the carpet, cocooned in spare hotel towels. Sabine had offered him her blanket, but he had refused. And now he was next to her bed and had fallen asleep holding her hand.

 _Separation anxiety much?_ Sabine thought wryly. She quietly slid the sheets back and slipped off the side of the bed to sit next to him. He was still knocked out; oblivious to the world.

Sabine hid a smile and swept a lock of black hair out of his closed eyes. If only he could always look this peaceful.

 _I'll never love anyone,_ Sabine had said all those years ago. Her dream had been a memory, one she had almost forgotten about until now. Sabine's hand paused on Ezra's temple. And for some reason, she kept it there. _Another broken promise,_ Sabine thought to herself. _I've loved too much._ _Since the moment I said that, I've loved too much._

There was a shuffling sound and Sabine's head darted up to see Luc standing only a few feet away. She started and her heart skipped a beat.

"Geez," she huffed, putting a hand over her heart. "You scared me. How long have you been standing there?" Sabine suddenly wondered if she'd been thinking aloud and if Luc had heard her.

Luc said nothing. She could just barely make out the glint of his blue eyes flashing as his gaze dropped from her to Ezra. Sabine still had her hand on his face and she jerked it back self-consciously.

"We should get moving," Luc said eventually. He looked away.

 _Weirdo,_ Sabine thought to him. _What I do and how I feel is my own business. I don't have to act defensive for it._

Sabine lifted her chin. "Good. Let's go."

Luc woke Kor while Sabine shook Ezra. Within the next twenty minutes, they had dressed and eaten the breakfast that the hotel served and were out on the streets to look for Bo-Katan.

Sabine shielded her face from the fabricated sunlight that beat down inside Sundari's biodome. _I hope we can find this lady soon,_ she thought to herself. _'Cause if not, this is going to be a long,_ long _day._

* * *

 _ **Eleven days later: Sundari, Mandalore. 1300 hours.** _

Impossible.

Sabine knew it would be hard to find Bo-Katan out of 3 million people, but she never would have known it would be impossible.

"Two weeks," she heard Ezra growl. "It's been two weeks since we started this wild mynock chase and we still can't find her."

Kor had taken them to every safe house, every contact, every source of intelligence that he could possibly come up with and it had proven futile. Now, they were walking the busied streets to _manda_ -knew-where with Kor in the lead. He had taken the setback in stride but Sabine could tell he was beginning to panic. How long would they search for Bo-Katan before they gave up?

"It's been a week and a half, Ezra" Kor corrected from up ahead. "And patience is a virtue. You have to understand that my aunt has been hiding herself for decades; it's no wonder we're having such difficulty locating her."

Sabine gritted her teeth. Patience wasn't exactly a prominent part of her character. "Kor," Sabine hissed through her teeth, "do we even know Arc was right about Bo-Katan being in Sundari?"

It was Luc who answered her. "Arc has plenty of informants who are sympathetic to the Death Watch," he said, "and Bo-Katan Kryze is one of them. That lady has been leading acts of rebellion in this city for years, now." Luc paused. "She's here, Sabine."

Kor sent Luc a glare. " _Mand'alor_ ," he said pointedly, "is right, though. No one outside of Sundari has seen my aunt since the Clone Wars. She might as well be a ghost story to everyone else."

"Would you pick a side already?" Ezra snapped. The Sundari heat was getting to everyone. "Is Bo-Katan here or not, Kor?"

Sabine wasn't listening anymore. Something Kor had said gave her an idea. " _Outside_ of Sundari," she breathed. "What… What about inside?"

Luc frowned. "What'd you mean?"

But Sabine's mind was already way ahead. "These people," she said quickly, "all of them, have seen Bo-Katan at one point or another. If she's been acting out against the Empire, she's _had_ to have made herself known. That's what Fenn Rau said, right?"

"So?"

" _So_ , we go along with Bo-Katan's game. She's rebelling against the Empire, so we beat her to it. If we find out where she attacks next, we can have the opportunity to talk with her when we meet. We could recruit her. Kor, what's the next big Imperial celebration?"

The older man seemed slightly confused. "I… heard there was a new batch of cadets graduating from the Imperial Academy in two days."

Sabine swallowed hard. _The Imperial Academy on Mandalore._ Of course, it just _had_ to be there. Her old school. She steeled her nerves, saying, "That's Bo-Katan's next target. And with luck, ours too."

* * *

 ** _Two days later: Sundari, Mandalore: 1600 hours._**

Sabine pulled the hood of her blue cloak over her head so that her face was covered in shadows. She was in a large crowd of New Mandalorians, trying to blend in with the mob of happy people.

They were shoving her around, everyone jostling for a good spot before the ceremony started. On cue, a drumline cadence started up and the crowd cheered.

Sabine stood on her tiptoes to see a small group of cadets march forward on the stage wearing immaculate black and red uniforms—the Imperial Academy's colors. They were straight-faced and solemn teens; not much older than herself.

Sabine realized that the cadets seemed a little older than her, and she even recognized a few of them. _This…_ she thought slowly _, this would have been my graduating class! If I hadn't skipped grades, I mean._

Before Sabine had defected from the Empire, she had been scheduled to graduate two years ahead of the standard time. After all, she had been forwarded to the Academy she was only twelve, even though Imperial protocol was fifteen. But Sabine had been the star student in her old school; top of her language class, weapons engineering, and several others.

Sabine swallowed. She remembered all the glares she had gotten when she had been at the Academy. So many cadets had hated her for being at the top of class in everything she did. Sabine had been the youngest kid there, yet had the highest grades.

 _Thank the manda I don't have to go through that stuff anymore,_ she thought to herself. _Even Mandalorian cadets can be dishonorable to their fellow classmates._

And they sure as kriff had.

...

...

...

Sabine walked quickly through the narrow Imperial, gripping her backpack tight. If she walked fast enough, maybe she wouldn't be cornered today-

"Well, well, if it isn't Cadet Perfect," a voice growled with evil amusement.

 _I spoke too soon,_ Sabine thought dryly. "I don't have time for this," she snapped to the group of older cadets that had begun to surround her.

"Let me guess," another sneered. "You have to go and study again."

Sabine narrowed her eyes. " _I'm_ not the one who should be studying. Due to your little escapade last night, Syler, your grades have dropped to a D minus. Lack of sleep, I'm assuming?"

The small crowd of cadets oohed and Sabine rolled her eyes. _Di'kuts._ A bunch of _di'kuts_ , all of them.

She started to move away, when Syler stepped in front of her "How'd you figure that out?" he growled.

Sabine smirked. Syler was about as discreet as a lumering bantha. It didn't take a genius to notice him slipping out of his dorm room at midnight and then being half-asleep when he went to take his Level Five Exams.

"None of your business," she said instead. "Now move."

But the bigger teen didn't. "You know," he said, bending down closer to her. "I think you cheated. I think you hacked into the Academy's system to find that out. After all, who scored highest in the espionage test we had last week?"

Sabine slowly narrowed her eyes. Did he _dare_ insult— "Did you just insult my honor?" she demanded.

The other cadets around them took a step back. They knew what was coming.

Syler's nostrils flared and Sabine could see the wheels turning in his head. Did he want to do this? Insulting another Mandalorian's honor was nasty business and Sabine _was_ at the top of their self-defense class.

But before he could answer, someone stepped in between the two.

"Syler," a boy said, "you don't want to do this." Sabine had never seen him before. He was a gangly teen, looking about fifteen, with disheveled long hair that fell below his shoulders. Strong jaw. Deep-set blue eyes. Fresh face still round with youth—a new cadet.

Syler seemed adamant. "I'm not scared of a little girl."

"You know good and well Sabine Wren is only twelve-years-old," the boy said sternly. "And although she may be ready to prove her honor, is it in any way noble for you to fight someone so young, seven years younger than yourself?"

"Careful," Sabine muttered under her breath. "I don't know if Syler can count that high."

Syler started forward. "What did you just say—?"

The boy stepped in between them. "Syler." His voice had a solemn tone to it. This wasn't going to end pretty unless someone back down.

Finally, Syler turned away. "Watch yourself, man. You and Cadet Perfect both. You're putting a nail in your coffin, siding with her."

The crowd of cadets followed Syler's lead and shuffled along with a lot of grumbling and sidelong looks.

"Buzzkill," one muttered to the boy who had helped Sabine.

"…No fun."

"Don't expect to be hanging out with us anymore."

"Yeah," they all agreed sporadically.

Sabine watched the cadets leave until it was just her and the gangly boy.

"You know," she said, hiking a hand on her hip, "I had everything completely under control."

The boy gave her a toothy smile. He looked too happy for Sabine's liking. "Don't worry," he said. "I didn't do it for a fiery little thing like you."

That made Sabine pause. "Then… why did you stick up for me like that?"

He sighed, plopping on the ground, his back against the wall. Sabine hesitantly joined him, crossing her legs. "Because…" he said slowly, "well, for the principle of it. He's nineteen. You shouldn't have to fight him."

Sabine frowned. "But," she said, "I _could_ do it."

He looked at her, baffled. "Is that the only thing you've gotten out of this?"

"It's the only thing I've told myself."

He stayed staring at her and Sabine wondered if he thought he made a mistake, sticking up for her. But then his face broke out in a wide smile. His light blue eyes twinkled.

"Y'know," he announced, "I think we're gonna be great friends." He had to be at least three years older than her but he smiled enduringly. He seemed to like smiling. "I'm Cadet LS-916. But you can call me Daalor.

 _"Daalor Ordo."_

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

Sabine blinked hard and was pulled back to reality. Hey, she remembered Syler! By the _manda_ it had been years since she'd even thought about the guy.

And Daalor.

Well, Sabine happened to think about her almost-big-brother often these days. She had stood in the very place she was standing now, in the Imperial Academy's courtyard, laughing and eating lunch with him and Ketsu. Those had been better days. And when Daalor had stood up to Syler and his gang, that had been the first time Sabine had met the guy. From that moment on, they had become instant friends. It wasn't long after that until their paths crossed Ketsu and the three had formed a small family.

Sabine looked sideways, noticing Ezra in the outskirts of the crowd. He was keeping an eye out for Bo-Katan in the graduation ceremony.

Sabine smiled unconsciously. Back what had seemed like a lifetime ago, Ezra had reminded Sabine of Daalor. As the boy's Jedi training progressed, Sabine had began to see something she hadn't seen in him before. Ezra had become selfless, noble, and caring-just like Daalor had been. He wasn't gloomy, like Sabine had expected for someone who had lived on the streets his whole life. Ezra had become happy. Genuinely happy.

And overtime, when he had gave her that lopsided grin, Sabine couldn't help thinking of Daalor and his enduring smile. Back then, in her Imperial Academy days, Sabine had needed a big brother, and Daalor had filled that spot. And now, in her Rebel days, maybe she needed something more than a brother. Maybe she needed a best friend.

 _And Ezra has certainly filled that spot,_ Sabine reflected with a slight smile.

Suddenly, a loud voice burst from the speakers around the crowd, causing Sabine's eyes to dart up.

"WELCOME EVERYONE!" a voice shouted cheerfully. It was the announcer behind the pulpit. He seemed ecstatic to be operating an Imperial cadet graduation ceremony. "The Imperial Academy is thrilled to present Sundari with the newest class of Mandalorian graduates!"

The crowd cheered and whistled.

The announcer smiled but then motioned for them to quiet down. "However," he said seriously, "in all honesty, I cannot think of a better way to serve our Emperor, than to give him the first and best of his troops. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for a new generation of Imperial Supercommandos!"

The crowd roared their approval, yet Sabine stayed silent, pulling her large blue cloak tighter around her body. Bo-Katan had to be arriving any minute now…

"And now," the announcer said humbly, "may I introduce a man of honor and pride for his homeworld… the Imperial Viceroy of Mandalore… GAR SAXON!"

Sabine's heart skipped a beat as her nemesis' name was called out. _Gar Saxon?_ Sabine thought incredulously. _He's not supposed to be here!_

A red and white armored Supercommando suddenly descended from the air, his jetpack lowering him down to the stage. The crowd roared even louder and Sabine snorted.

"Showoff," she muttered

Gar Saxon took off his helmet and walked to the pulpit, his rough face contorted in a smirk. "Good afternoon, citizens of Mandalore!"

Sabine glared daggers at the man, her arms crossed. _Dishonorable Hutt-spawn,_ she cursed the man mentally. _Go suck_ beskar.

"As the leader of this planet," he said, his voice dripping with fake humility, "it is my duty to see Mandalore's children raised to be Mandalorians. Which is why I am proud to see _these_ children off. However, these cadets are not leaving as children, but as trained and battle-tried men and women of their Emperor!"

Sabine gritted her teeth as the crowd cheered. Seriously? Did Saxon just try to pull the _Resol'nare_ on them? The fifth rule to raise their children to be Mandalorians? _The audacity!_

Saxon motioned to someone on the stage, and they brought him an opened box. Sabine could just see the gleam of badges from inside its velvety depths.

Gar Saxon cleared his throat and said into the mic, "Daalor Ordo, please step forward."

Sabine's breath hitched. _Did he… Is Daalor…_

"No," she whispered. It couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be!

Sabine tore off the hood of her cloak and pushed to the front of the crowd. _He was dead,_ Sabine thought frantically. _I left him for dead… he has to be dead!_ The weapon had misfired on the barrack, electrocuting everyone inside it-including Daalor. It couldn't be true. Unless…

 _Unless he managed to escape,_ Sabine thought, a grim certainty began to settle at the pit of her stomach as she moved closer to the stage. _I never did see a body._

Like a scene from a nightmare, Daalor was very much non-electrocuted and standing side by side with Gar Saxon. His normally scruffy, light brown hair that the boy had wore long was now short and gelled to the side. The playful twinkle in Daalor's eyes was no longer there. His blue eyes were… cold. Unforgiving. No-nonsense. And now, his broad jaw and chiseled chin looked gaunt and his cheeks sunken in.

"Daalor," Sabine whispered to the man in front of her. "What have they done to you?"

But he couldn't hear her from where he stood proudly on the stage next to Saxon.

"Daalor Ordo," Saxon said formally, picking up a badge from the open box. "I present you, the valedictorian of your class, with this badge as a symbol of your rank among the Empire." Saxon pinned the gleaming piece of metal on Daalor's uniform. "And now," Saxon continued, "Daalor Ordo would like to say a few words."

Sabine fought to swallow as her throat constricted with emotion. Where was her carefree friend she'd once knew? That erect posture hadn't been there four years ago. That somber expression on his face hadn't been there when she'd known him. That vacant… _dead_ look in his empty blue eyes would haunt Sabine.

"I am proud to serve my Emperor," Daalor monotoned. "And even though the years it has taken for me to graduate have been rough, due to… external circumstances—"

Sabine's eyes widened. _He's talking about me,_ she realized. _Does he really think I was just a… a_ hold-up _in his graduation plan?_

"—I am relieved to finally consider myself a true member of the Imperial Supercommandos," Daalor continued. "I vow to bring _peace_ … _justice_ … and _security_ to my new Empire."

Sabine's breathing was rapid and her heart raced in her chest. _How could he say that…?_ After the Empire had enslaved their people, he was still devoted to them?!

" _Par kote bal ijaat be te_ Emperor!" Daalor shouted in Mando'a. And with his fist raised in the air, his mouth opened in a battle cry, Daalor suddenly froze as a thunderous sound went off.

Sabine's heart stopped and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a raw scream.

It was a blaster shot.

 _And it went straight through Daalor's chest._

His body was rigid and for a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, no one spoke or even moved. And then Daalor slowly slid off the pulpit, a smoldering hole through the center of his uniform.

" _Open fire!_ " a female's voice screamed suddenly and blasts began to rain down.

Sabine didn't have time for grief as her body moved by pure instinct. She ran, her legs pumping and slid under the stage. Her blue cloak had been torn off in the madness and Sabine caught her breath as her heart pounded in her chest. _I hope the others are okay,_ she thought as she heard lasers ping off the metal stage. Surely everyone who had been up there had been shot. All the graduating cadets on the stage had to have been caught in the crossfire from…

 _Bo-Katan!_ Sabine realized. _She showed up after all!_

Sabine scooted under the stage, hauling her body along. She poked her head out and then quickly rolled and stood, coming face-to-face with an epic battle.

Lasers rained down like water droplets and flying Mandos rocketed everywhere. Sabine quickly spotted Imperial Supercommandos engaged in an aerial firefight with blue and white armored Mandalorians.

 _Bo-Katan's Nite Owls,_ Sabine realized. _I can't believe she's still commandeering that group!_

Sabine turned and looked up on the stage. There were at least six cadets dead, and one of them she recognized. _Daalor,_ Sabine thought, strained. She _had_ to seem him. Just one last time.

Sabine leaped onto the stage and skidded over to Daalor, her throat constricting. She slowly reached out a shaking hand, brushing aside the gel-soaked flick of hair in his face.

The smell of blood tainted the air and Sabine gently picked his head up, her heart aching. Her poor brother. Her fellow Mandalorian. She had spent years laughing with the now not-so-gangly boy. And to die… like this? Serving the Empire?

Suddenly, Daalor stirred.

Sabine nearly jumped out of her skin. _He's still alive?!_

Sabine hurriedly pressed two fingers next to his neck, checking for a pulse. It was faint, but definitely there.

 _He's not dead… He's not dead!_

Sabine shook him and patted his face gently. "Daalor," she said urgently. "Daalor, wake up!"

The adult stirred even more, and his eyes flickered open. Big, beautiful, twinkling blue eyes. "S…Sabine?" he mumbled, sounding confused.

She wanted to cry. _He still remembers me._ Sabine ignored the firefight around her. Her vision was tunneled to the young man she held in her arms. "It's me," Sabine choked. "It's me, Daalor. It's Sabine. I came back."

Daalor stared hard at her, his pupils dilating. " _You_ ," he growled, "Sabine Wren… the traitor."

No. No, not him too!

"Daalor," Sabine said, her voice breaking, "no, I'm not. I came back for you! For all of you! I'm going to free Mandalore!"

His face looked pale and unhealthy. Daalor swallowed forcibly. "Lies," he gasped. "Lies. You enslaved us. You killed thousands, _billions_ of people."

Sabine's breaths were shallow as her heart sank. _Him too?_ "The _Empire_ used the weapon. They enslaved our people, not me!"

"You created it," he murmured, his eyes brimming with tears. "I loved you, Sabine! You were like my sister! You saw our people now—you saw the way you've forced them to live. You did that."

She felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She looked at him sternly. "It wasn't my fault," she said evenly, "and you don't mean that."

"I do!" Daalor cried, tears streaking his blood-stained face. "I do, I _swear_ I do!"

"You don't," Sabine said slowly. "Don't die like this, Daalor; saying stuff you don't mean. Your word is your bond."

"Don't lecture me," Daalor spat, grabbing at his chest. "I will die like I lived… serving my Emperor."

Sabine narrowed her eyes. She had known him long enough to know that he was about to do something impulsive. He had it written all over his sallow face.

"GAR SAXON!" Daalor cried, moving away from Sabine. "Saxon, I've found a traitor! The traitor, Sabine Wren! She's here! _Saxon!_ "

Sabine jumped away from Daalor and whirled around to see a certain red and white armored Imperial Supercommando hovering in the air.

Sabine locked eyes with Gar Saxon and she slowly straightened. She saw his mouth move as he murmured her name, before yelling the words, "Squad! Forget about the rebels! Focus your fire on… on Sabine Wren!"

Sabine had a split second before lasers erupted around her. And so in that split second, her muscles moving by instinct, she dashed over to Daalor, grabbed him by an arm, and dove behind the pulpit.

The blasts bored holes into the metal around Sabine and pinged off the pulpit she was hiding behind. She could hear Bo-Katan's Nite Owls covering her, returning fire.

Sabine pulled Daalor close behind the pulpit, hiding his body the best she could. "We're in trouble," she murmured to her old friend.

Daalor coughed violently. "No," he gasped, " _you're_ in trouble. Soon I will join my ancestors and become one with the _manda._ I won't need to feel the shame and pain that you feel."

Sabine frowned, swallowing hard. She was about to snap back something but she realized how close Daalor was to death. _I can't insult his memory by arguing with him in his last moments,_ Sabine reasoned. _He doesn't know what he's talking about._

But in the back of her mind, Sabine knew Daalor was fully aware of what he was spatting to her.

She just didn't want to admit it.

"I'm here for you," Sabine said quietly, holding her old friend's hand as his breathing grew labored.

Daalor stared hard at her. "No," choked. "No, little sister. You never were."

Sabine felt as if she was being torn in two. "Daalor, please," she said in a strangled whisper. "Don't talk like this."

Daalor grimaced and the veins in his neck bulged. He was dying. He was dying and she knew it.

Sabine tried hard to ignore the painful gnawing on the inside of her. "See you on the other side, old friend."

Daalor heaved for breath. And as Sabine met his big, beautiful, yet shockingly vacant blue eyes, she knew he meant every word. "No," he managed, gasping between words. "You won't follow me to the _manda_ , Sabine. You are _dar'manda._ Soulless."

Sabine gripped his clammy hand tight, in one last, desperate attempt to change his mind. "No," she whispered despairingly. "I'm your little sister."

Daalor stared into her eyes, unshed tears glistening. "I swear," he whispered, "I never even knew you."

Sabine reeled as Daalor's chest lifted one last time, and then fell. It didn't move after that.

With shaky fingers Sabine slowly closed his eyelids. His blue eyes were truly vacant now. His last words rang in her ears. _I swear I never even knew you._ She had spent three years of her life with Daalor and Ketsu and his dying words were that he never knew her.

 _It's because he thinks…_ thought _I'm a traitor._ Sabine reflected bleakly. _The Sabine he knew would never enslave our people. The Sabine Daalor knew made straight As, aced the Level Ten Exams at the Academy, got in trouble for drawing on her desk in class, and was best friends with Ketsu, his crush. The Sabine Daalor knew would never enslave our people. Would never hold the Darksaber, or become the Mand'alor. The Sabine Daalor knew would amount to something. Would become the star student of the Empire._

 _The Sabine that I am… is a disappointment._

 _Is a traitor._

 _Is soulless._

And as Sabine looked down at her "big brother's" pale skin, forever closed eyes, and still chest… she couldn't stop feeling completely and absolutely horrified.

"I can't do this," Sabine choked, closing her eyes. "You were right." She pulled the dead boy closer and buried her face in his uniform. How could she do this? How could she lead her people? The people who knew her best all said the same thing: that she was not fit to lead. There was so much red on Sabine's hands, so much red that every time she tried to clean something she just ended up smearing it.

Sabine suddenly grit her teeth. _Pull yourself together,_ she snapped to herself. _You can't control what everyone else will do; whether they'll follow you and if they won't._ You _messed up, Sabine. So_ you _have to fix it._

 _Daalor says you enslaved Mandalore? Now you're here to liberate it._

 _Daalor says you killed billions of your own people? It was the Empire that used your weapon, not you._

 _Daalor says you're a traitor? Prove your loyalty._

 _Daalor says you're soulless? Prove just how much of a Mandalorian you are._

 _Daalor says you're dishonorable and a disgrace to your family? Kriff, who cares what Mom thinks! You've got Hera and Kanan and Zeb and Chopper! You've got_ Ezra! _You don't need your blood family. After all, isn't family more than bloodline?_

Sabine straitened, gently laying Daalor's head on the cracked metal stage. "I fix my mistakes," Sabine said aloud. "I'm not going to let Mandalore suffer any longer for something I was responsible for."

Sabine stood up behind the pulpit and stepped out into open area. "Saxon!" she shouted, tired of hiding. "Face me like a Mandalorian!"

The Imperial Viceroy turned at the sound of her voice, training his blaster on her. He began to smirk. "Set weapons to stun, boys," he growled with twisted pleasure. "We need the girl alive."

Sabine gritted her teeth and jutted out her chin defiantly. _I'm done running,_ Sabine thought angrily. _I am who I am and I'm sick and tired of apologizing for it._

"Saxon!" Sabine yelled, jabbing her index finger at him. "I'm coming for you! You enslaved my world and I'm going to liberate it!"

Gar Saxon seemed to find the idea amusing. "Really, Wren?" he said, beginning to descend. "You are a wayward child and a traitor. You are no threat to the Empire."

Sabine was still defiant. She knew who she was. And she sure as kriff was a threat. "I'm Mand'alor the Free," Sabine said evenly. "And I will free my homeworld. Do you _hear_ me Saxon? _I am coming for you!_ "

The old man alighted on the stage, his blaster leveled at her. "Not a chance, traitor," he muttered and Sabine watched his finger tighten around the trigger.

Suddenly, a detonator rolled right between Saxon's feet and Sabine's eyes widened. She was already moving as someone cried out, "BOMB!"

Sabine was blown forward from the explosion. She landed on her back, off the stage, on the hard duracrete ground. She wheezed for a moment. Her ears rang and her mouth gasped for air that wasn't there.

A hand with a grip as hard as _beskar_ suddenly clamped onto Sabine's arm and pulled her up. Sabine looked around dizzily to see the fuzzy outline of a female Mandalorian, with a shock of red hair and piercing green eyes.

"C'mon, "Mand'alor the Free,"" Bo-Katan Kryze growled. "We've got a lot to talk about."

* * *

 **Hoped you guys liked this chap! Umm and I'm probably gonna stop writing these A/N at the end of the chapter because I've run out of things to say XD**

 **Y'all know the drill. Follow/Fav if you like the story and are interested to see where we're headed! Reviews are greatly appreciated ^^ Thanks again for your continuous support and patience; seriously, can't stress that enough. You guys are great!**

 **Specter7 out.**


	14. Chapter 14: A Gritty Resolve

**Howdy, Specter7 here. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Valentines Day, and all the other holidays I missed XD Sorry if I haven't answered your reviews you guys posted on my fic. I've been crazy busy lately but I promise I read all your reviews and greatly appreciate them! We're about three quarters of the way through with this story and I've already written the rest, its merely a matter of facing the demon known as editing.**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 14: A Gritty Resolve

* * *

"Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above them."

 _-Washington Irving_

* * *

Ezra had begun to really hate Mandalorians.

They were so… fickle. Their moods shifted at the drop of a hat. Like whenever they were at the Death Watch camp, for example. One moment, Arc Wren was declaring a battle to the death with Sabine and in the next, she was playing bolo-ball with them like one big happy family. Even on Dxun— Torian Ordo was acting like a grumpy old man and an hour later he was declaring Sabine the sole ruler and junk.

And just a few hours ago, Ezra and the others had helped Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls fight those Imperial Mandalorians. Yet whoop-di-doo! Another surprise; Bo-Katan's men had cuffed Ezra almost immediately after the firefight and split him up from Sabine despite his most avid protests.

Ezra twisted his wrists in the electro-cuffs and grimaced. The blue-armored guards leading him down the dark tunnel stayed silent.

"Look," Ezra said, on his last thread of patience. "You guys are with Bo-Katan, right? Sabine mentioned her to me."

Neither looked over.

"Sabine?" Ezra persisted. "Sabine Wren? Clan Wren, House Vizsla? Ring any bells?" He paused a beat. They didn't respond and Ezra really wanted to Force-strangle some people right now. "She's Death Watch," Ezra snapped, "or, er, her mother was. Anyway, Sabine's mom and Bo-Katan worked together or something and you guys are supposed to give us free entry. No trouble."

Again, no response.

Ezra was growing increasingly frustrated but forced himself to breathe. _Remember Kanan's teachings,_ he chided himself. _Breathe. Meditate. Let the Force flow through you._

Ezra sighed, closing his eyes. He let his captors lead him along the dark, wet, dank tunnel. He listened to the sound of his boots squeaking on the wet floor. He felt the rough grips on the Mandalorians' gloves tighten on his biceps. He smelled the sickly sweet scent of sweat off his captors.

Ezra let himself grow in tune with the armored Mandalorians' Force-signatures. Unlike Sabine's, their's were dull and pale. Discipline and rigidness radiated off of them. _That's Mandalorians for ya,_ he thought to himself.

It was nice to openly meditate without Sabine giving him the evil eye or kicking his shins. It… grounded him. Put everything into perspective. Settled his racing thoughts and spiking blood pressure.

Ezra knit his brows over closed eyes. He could sense something. Up ahead. The tunnel opened up into…

"Wake up," one of his guards said gruffly, shaking Ezra. "We're here."

The other guard entered a password into a hidden console on the doorframe and the automatic doors slid open. Ezra gaped.

It was a giant underground cavity, thick with Mandalorians. There was a missions briefing table in the middle surrounded by important-looking leaders arguing back and forth. Metal beams held the dirt-packed ceiling up, and the buzz of midday traffic vibrated the ground underneath Ezra's feet.

"We're directly under Sundari," Ezra realized.

A guard shoved him forward. "Keep moving."

Ezra looking around frantically for Sabine or any familiar face—anyone to get him out of this mess. Except his searching eyes found the one face he didn't want to see.

"Hey, Ezra," Luc said calmly, walking through the sea of armored Mandalorians. "I was looking for you."

 _Wish I could say the same_ , Ezra grumbled to himself. Instead, he said, "Where's Sabine?" Luc opened his mouth to respond but Ezra did a double-take. "Wait, why are _you_ not in cuffs?"

Luc grinned devilishly and shrugged. "I make friends quick." He glanced at the guards. "Let him go. I can take it from here."

The Mandalorians holding Ezra barely responded. "We have orders to take the outsider to an interrogation room," one monotoned. "Your command is overruled by Lady Bo-Katan, Informant Tenau."

Ezra frowned. " _Informant?_ "

"Where is she, anyway?" Luc said, ignoring Ezra.

"The same place we're taking this one," the guard replied. "You may come along."

"Wait, wait, wait—" Ezra said, "Luc, do you… you _work_ for Bo-Katan?! That's how you knew she was Arc's contact in Sundari!"

Luc shot him a mischievous look. "Don't be ridiculous, Ezra. I would never be so two-faced."

As soon as his head turned back around, Ezra made a face at his back. _"I would never be so two-faced,"_ Ezra mocked to himself. _I'm Luc, look at my beautiful golden locks and rippling—_

"Here," a guard said. Another door opened, revealing a pocket separate from the main cavity, and they stepped inside.

It took Ezra a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. And when they did, his face broke out in a smile. "Sabine!"

She turned to face him and gave him a tired smile. "Ez."

 _She's okay,_ Ezra thought, his shoulders slumping. _The Mandalorians didn't hurt her._ Two weeks in and he still wasn't used to seeing Sabine out of her usual armor. She stuck out like a sore thumb now, among the armor-clad guards in the room, with her charcoal-colored top and navy, synth-leather pants.

He could see the same kind of relief on Sabine's face as she came to stand next to him. "You're here," she sighed. "Finally." Sabine looked down at Ezra's wrists, finding them tied together by a beam of plasma. "Electro-cuffs? Seriously? Guards, release him."

Ezra looked around the room. Besides his two guards and four others, there was a red-haired woman that Ezra had seen talking to Sabine earlier. Her green eyes were cold and calculating. They darted Ezra over. Finally she waved her hand and the guards released the cuffs.

Ezra rubbed his raw wrists, taking everything into account. Judging by the lady's stern Force-signature, this could go south easy. Okay, between Ezra, Sabine, and Luc, they had one blaster—maybe. Not good odds.

"Who's this?" The lady said, looking to him. Despite her bravado, she sounded tired. War-weary. "Another of your accomplices, Wren?"

"I'm Ezra," he said. "I'm guessing you already know Luc. We're with Sabine and we demand a hearing."

She shot a glare over Ezra's shoulder at someone behind him. "Luc? You're in league with these two?"

Luc laughed nervously. " _"In league"_ is more a label, milady. I prefer the term… blackmailed by Arc Wren and dragged into this."

"Ah." She turned to Ezra. "You, boy. Do you know of your friend's crimes against Mandalore?"

"Oh, yeah," Ezra said immediately, beginning to list things off his fingers. "He's annoying, self-centered, egotistical, sadistic—"

"Not Luc, fool. The one you call Sabine Wren."

"Oh. No. Wait, is this about the weapon-killing-everyone thing? Because she can explain—"

"She's explained enough. I've heard her side. The excuses, the speech to join her. I want to know more about her cohorts, though." The redhead narrowed her eyes. "What's your house, boy?"

Ezra stared at her. "House?"

"Your Mandalorian house. Your clan's political standpoint? You must not be very bright—"

"House Ordo," Ezra interrupted, ignoring Luc and Sabine's stares. "What's _your_ house?"

The redhead lifted her chin. "I am Bo-Katan Kryze of Clan and House Kryze. I have brought you here to find out just how deep you are in league with this… this traitor, Ezra."

"She's not a traitor. I trust Sabine with my life—I have for years—"

"—You know Sabine Wren _personally?_ A member of House Order?"

Ezra tilted his head. "Yeah…"

Bo-Katan took a step closer to him. "House Ordo is one the most esteemed houses of our entire culture," she growled. "I'm sure Torian Ordo wouldn't taint his royal name by associating with the likes of a _dar'manda_ snake as Sabine Wren—"

Sabine stepped in between them. "You _dare_ insult my honor?"

Bo-Katan's hackles raised and Ezra quickly pulled Sabine back. "Calm down," Ezra muttered into her ear. "We're outgunned and outnumbered. You don't want to start a fight in this place."

 _Stupid Mandos,_ Ezra cursed mentally. _Apparently Bo-Katan's not any different from the rest of them. But… it's my duty as a Jedi to rise above that aggression that Mandalorians love._

 _…_ _Or, that's what Kanan keeps telling me, anyway._

Ezra subtly unballed Sabine's fist in a nonverbal gesture to stand down. _Sabine's not like them,_ Ezra thought. _Why can't Arc and Luc and Bo-Katan take a few lessons from her?_ Sabine calmed underneath his touch and Ezra watched as she finally unclenched her hands.

Bo-Katan snorted and brushed invisible dirt off of her shoulder. "As I was saying, Torian Ordo must not know of your siding with this so-called Mand'alor. He would never stand for it."

It was Sabine who spoke. "He would, actually. Torian Ordo has already pledged allegiance to me."

Bo-Katan frowned. "Lies."

"Feel free to call him. Or Clan Cadera, Clan Kelborn, the Protectors of Concord Dawn—or even Arc Wren and the Death Watch. I'm recruiting, Lady Bo-Katan. We could use you too."

"Don't," Bo-Katan said, holding up a hand, "start again. You gave me your speech already. I'm here for the boy."

Ezra crossed his arms. _Wow, someone actually wants to listen to me,_ he thought to himself. "What do you want?"

"Sabine Wren is not the first to proclaim herself Mand'alor. I've heard the heartfelt pleadings, the rousing speeches, and the empty promises from numerous people. But each time, they have no claim to the position and they fail. Assassinated by their "followers" or imprisoned and executed by Imperials.

"If you are truly as sold-out to the new Mand'alor as you claim, then prove it. Are you willing to die for it?"

Ezra balled his hands into fists and he watched the guards grow restless. "Is that a threat?"

Bo-Katan's expression remained unreadable. "Not unless you make it one."

Ezra narrowed his eyes. He had to play this right. One wrong word and she could order her men to gun them down. Sabine's campaign would be over before it had begun. _I have to convince her to join Sabine. We_ need _Bo-Katan._

"Fine," he relented. "Where do you want me to start?"

Bo-Katan pulled up a chair and crossed her legs. "From the beginning."

Ezra sat in his own and knit his fingers. "I met Sabine about four years ago. She was the only Mandalorian on the crew and I had intercepted one of their shipments. Long story short, I got recruited and started living on the ship; a VCX-100 light freighter. Sabine was just a graffiti artist at the time."

Bo-Katan leaned forward. "And you two were close?"

Ezra thought back to all the the pranks that were pulled; like Sabine and him sneaking away to spray paint that stolen TIE fighter. _That feels like a lifetime ago,_ he thought to himself. _Were we really that carefree?_

"You could say that," Ezra said eventually.

"When did all this "Mand'alor the Free" business begin?"

He thought hard. "Not until Dathomir. There was a… side job on an Outer Rim planet. Sabine found the Darksaber in one of the tunnels."

Bo-Katan's eyes rounded. "The Darksaber?"

Sabine answered by igniting the blade, washing the room in milky light. She waved the blade a little and it hummed with energy.

Bo-Katan looked to her. "You never mentioned you had the Darksaber."

Sabine sheathed her weapon. "Would it have made any difference?"

"The real question," Ezra interrupted, "is _should_ it? A blade isn't the judge on whether or not someone can handle leadership. Sabine is worthy because of where's she's come from and what she's risen above."

The redhead settled back in her seat. "Expound."

"Sabine didn't want the Darksaber. But Kanan and Hera convinced—"

"Who?"

"The leaders of our crew. They wanted Sabine to recruit Mandalorian warriors to the Rebellion using the Darksaber. Except…" Ezra rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, recruiting Mandalorians for the Rebellion turned into launching a full-out campaign and Arc Wren declaring Sabine the Mand'alor after a duel to the death over the Darksaber."

Bo-Katan pinched the bridge of her nose. "Arc Wren. Her name keeps popping up. Where is the little she-devil anyway?"

"Concordia," Luc announced. "Recruiting the Mandalorians there."

"Too scared to show her face. Look, Ezra, I'm a busy woman. I've been orchestrating raids and incursions since before you were born and I need more than a speech to convince me to lend my forces. Why should I help you?"

Ezra met her eyes. "Because we need it. Bo-Katan, you're the only one who can help us capture Sundari. You want to get out from the Empire's thumb, don't you? If we both work together, we might actually stand a chance of stopping them."

Bo-Katan sighed. She looked past Ezra to Sabine. "The people will follow you because of that blade. I suppose you earned the rights to it after your duel with your cousin?"

"Yes," Sabine said. "And I'm keeping it."

"The trick isn't keeping the blade; it's keeping your head. People will challenge you for it—if they haven't already."

"I'm aware. Listen, Bo-Katan, we need an answer. We're liberating Sundari with or without you, but we might actually stand a chance of winning if you come with. So are you in or out?"

Bo-Katan hesitated.

Ezra tried to stretch out with the Force to Bo-Katan's mind, to try to sense anything the lady was feeling, but he immediately hit a mental wall.

The door suddenly slid opened and two more guards walked in and saluted.

"What?" Bo-Katan said, sounding annoyed.

"We found another rebel, ma'am."

She looked to Sabine. "One of your friends?"

Sabine tilted her head. "You know him."

It took a second for Ezra to realize what Sabine was saying. _Kor,_ Ezra thought suddenly. _I totally forgot about him. He's Bo-Katan's nephew, right?_

Kor pushed his way to the front, shrugging off the grips of his captors. "You'll regret this," he was spatting to them. "I told you my aunt is your—" He cut himself off when he saw her. "Leader."

Bo-Katan looked like a Loth-cat caught in headlights. Green eyes round, her lips moved and sound barely escaped them. "Korkie?"

A smile touched Kor's lips. "Hey Auntie Bo."

"You're alive? When I didn't hear from you after the Empire burned our clan to the ground... I assumed the worse."

Kor rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry I didn't write. I've… been busy. Look, I knew you'd have trouble believing in the new Mand'alor but you have to listen; you're in grave danger."

Bo-Katan straightened and Ezra could almost see her vulnerability fade away. "How so?"

"Once the Empire knows Sabine is here, they'll crack down on security. If we strike first with the element of surprise, we _might_ have a shot at seizing Sundari. From there, we'll take back over the other Mandalorian worlds."

Bo-Katan was silent and Ezra was on the edge of his seat, waiting for her response. Seconds ticked by as the tension thickened.

Bo-Katan's eyes flicked to Sabine. She appeared conflicted. "I… I'm uncertain—"

"Lady Kryze," Sabine interrupted. "You're already enslaved. You've lost your freedom. What else do you have to lose?"

She paused. "My life, but when has that ever stopped me before… Alright, Clan Kryze will forge a temporary alliance with the new Mand'alor. But we reserve the rights to back out at any point in time."

Ezra's shoulders slumped and he offered a quick thanks to the Force.

He could hear the relief in Sabine's voice. "Great."

" _But_ there will be conditions. You will stay within the walls of my jurisdiction while in Sundari. You will be confined to the tunnels and to the building directly above us—you can each have your own suite, but you will not go outside. It's for your safety as much as it is the safety of Clan Kryze."

Ezra crossed his arms. "So we're prisoners."

"Guests with restrictions," Bo-Katan corrected.

Luc came to stand in front of Ezra and Sabine, bowing slightly. "Thank you, milady. We are indebted to you." Behind him, his hands groped for Sabine and Ezra, and he began to lead them out the door. Bo-Katan's searing gaze followed them.

The door slid shut and Luc sighed. "That was close."

Ezra sneered. "You're such a suck-up."

"And if I didn't know any better, you two were trying to doom us. Is that what you call diplomacy?"

Sabine separated them and pushed them both away. "Both of you shut up. You're giving me a headache."

Her gaze was stony and she stormed off without another word, slipping into the crowd of Mandalorians. Ezra watched her go.

"What's her problem?" Luc said.

Ezra didn't answer and went to follow her. She walked down a narrow tunnel and Ezra called after her. His voice bounced off the walls. She didn't respond.

"Hey," Ezra said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "What's up?"

Sabine shrugged him off. "Not now, Ezra."

"Was it Bo-Katan? You did fine, Sabine. She's gonna join us now."

"No, that was _you._ You convinced her. She wanted your opinion. She heard my entire speech and didn't even acknowledge it."

Ezra blinked. Well, that had been before he'd gotten there. But if it was anything like her other speeches, he knew it was good. "You can't please everyone, Bean. She's obviously got issues. You can't pin all of them on yourself."

Sabine rubbed her arms and looked away. "I know."

Ezra took her hand and made her meet his eyes. "I'm sure you did great."

"It's… not just that."

Ezra waited, watching her bite her lip and gather her words together.

"Something happened during the graduation of those Imperial cadets. One of my oldest friends had been on that stage. Bo-Katan killed him."

Ezra's eyes widened. "What?"

Sabine hugged herself. "His name was Daalor. I thought he was dead, though— I thought my weapon killed him six years ago. So imagine my surprise when he shows up on that stage with the rest of my graduating class."

The Force tingled around him and Ezra started. He suddenly realized that something had shifted in Sabine's Force-signature. It was still warm and bright and expressive, but something had changed. No, not changed. _Developed._ Sabine seemed less tightly wound. More free. As if, she had figured out who she was and it had released her from some sort of… of inner bondage. There was a gritty resolve in her Force-signature that had not been there before.

"What changed?" Ezra asked Sabine aloud.

"Hmm?"

"You seem… different." Ezra hesitated. "Ever since Bo-Katan captured us at the Imperial Graduation you've changed. I don't know how to describe it, but your Force-signature has become… well, settled, sort of. Like you know who you are."

A faint smile kissed Sabine's lips. "I made a decision on that stage, Ezra. I realized that no matter what Daalor thinks or Bo-Katan or any of them… I know that I'm doing the right thing. I couldn't save Daalor, but I know I can save the rest of my people. That's why we have to succeed, Ezra. Gar Saxon _has_ to be brought down. There's not an alternative."

Something swelled in his chest. Ezra thought it was pride but he couldn't be sure.

Sabine looked away again. "And I've been thinking, Ezra."

He grinned. "Uh-oh. That's never a good sign."

"Shut up. Look, things are about to get crazy here. In the next few weeks, there'll be raids and recruitments and speeches." She paused. "It'll be dangerous."

"Never stopped us before."

"And this isn't about the Rebellion anymore, Ezra. It's transpired into something different. I'm not recruiting the Mandalorians for Hera or Sato. I'm recruiting them for Mand'alor the Free. We're going to liberate Mandalore."

"I know."

"And… I can't ask you to stay here."

Ezra stared at her. He must've misheard her. "What?"

"You're an agent of the Rebellion, Ezra. You're here on direct orders from Hera. I'm disobeying her but I can't ask you to too. Go back to them. Go back to the Rebellion and report what's happened. You're Lieutenant Commander now, remember?"

He was too shocked to speak for a long moment. When he did speak, it rushed out of him like a faucet. "You're crazy," he sputtered. "I—I'm not here because of the Rebellion! I'm here because of you."

Sabine stared at him, mouth parted.

"I'm with you all the way, remember? I don't give a kriff about that Lieutenant Commander title."

Her eyes were wide. Ezra watched them grow glassy. "Really?"

"Of course," he said. Feeling brave, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Sabine hugged him tight and he could sense the relief roll off of her in waves. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, making him shiver.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her breath tickled his ear.

Ezra planted a gentle kiss on her head, committing everything to memory. The smell of her hair, the rise and fall of her chest against his, the grip of her fingertips against his back, everything.

Ezra felt something intense and fiery work in his gut. His fierce protection for Sabine seemed to double and he pulled her closer, resting his forehead on hers.

 _I swear I'll never let anything happen to you,_ Ezra promised, closing his eyes. _I swear._


	15. Chapter 15: Raiding the Imperial Academy

**Hi everyone, Specter7 here. Haha, guess who actually updated on time? I am determined to update regularly from now until the end of the story. Hopefully every week, maybe every two if I get behind.**

 **A lot of you have Mandalorian questions, of which I'm happy to answer! Just shoot me a message and I can help you. Whenever I started this story, my goal was actually to help diverge readers into some of the Mandalorian lore, so I'm thrilled that you guys are curious. If you have any queries about the manda, mando'a, or any of the clans/houses, just let me know!**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 15: Raiding the Imperial Academy

* * *

"I had reasoned this out in my mind; there was one of two things I had a right to, liberty, or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other."

 _-Harriet Tubman_

* * *

" _How's everything going in the big city?"_ Arc Wren asked, her arms crossed in the blue hologram.

Sabine tried for a reassuring smile but she was pretty sure she failed. "As well as can be expected."

Ezra and Sabine were side-by-side in a booth, sitting across from Kor and Luc. The holoprojector was in the middle of their table, and Arc's lean figure, tinted blue from the hologram, flickered in and out. It had been the first time since their team had separated that Sabine had held a videoconference with her cousin. She had told Ezra it was for updating purposes, which it was, but Sabine really just wanted to make sure Arc was okay. Two weeks of them being separated and Sabine was sure Arc would be up to no good without Sabine to make sure she didn't get herself killed.

Ezra shifted his weight next to Sabine. He had grown taller than her over the course of their journey. Sabine now had to stand on her tiptoes to be eye-level with him; which wasn't the best quality when they got in an argument.

Ezra yawned. It was still the early morning and Sabine couldn't help smiling as he looked blearily at the hologram. "Bo-Katan sure is a stubborn Mando," he said. He rubbed his eyes. "We got her to agree to a temporary alliance but that's still not saying too much."

"She's hesitant," Kor corrected. "And for good reason, of course. My aunt doesn't want to follow someone blindly."

"What about you?" Sabine interrupted, mildly curious about her cousin's whereabouts. "Having better luck?"

Arc smirked. " _Hardly,"_ she said with a snort. " _However, we did manage to stir up trouble back on Concordia. The Mandalorians there were_ quite _upset."_

Sabine palmed her face. Trust her cousin to "rally others to the Mand'alor's cause."

"I thought you were supposed to convince people to join Sabine," Ezra said. "Not 'stir up trouble'."

" _Everything went smoothly,"_ a foreign voice interrupted. Fenn Rau came into view. " _Several of the zealots on Concordia were eager to stand against the Empire and began waging their own war on Mandalore's moon. The forces there are standing by until Sabine gives the order."_

Sabine perked up. _Well when you put it_ that _way..._

Ezra piped up again. "When is Sabine 'giving the order'?"

Arc shrugged in the gritty blueness of the hologram. " _Whenever she's ready. We're gearing up for all-out war, kid. Once we bring all these forces together in Sundari, the heart of all Mandalore… There will be no stopping it."_

Sabine swallowed at the prospect. Once she "gave the order" like Ezra said, everyone would converge to Sundari. House Ordo, House Caladon, the Death Watch, and Bo-Katan's Nite Owls… maybe even _more._ But they had to act quick—all of them.

"Where are you now?" Luc asked, speaking up for the first time in the conversation.

" _The Death Watch camp,"_ Arc answered. " _We finished that little campaign to Concordia yesterday and I'm just now relieving Jaxon of leader duty."_

Ezra poked his head in front of Sabine's, blocking her view. "Is Jaxon there?"

Sabine knew that after playing _Meshgeroya,_ Ezra and Jaxon had bonded, their competitiveness being a thing they had in common.

" _Right here!"_ a new voice said suddenly. Jaxon's blue-tinted face edged the hologram and he waved.

Ezra and Luc waved back, and Sabine wrinkled her nose. She finally shoved Ezra back to his side of the booth. "Get off," she muttered.

Suddenly, on the hologram's projection, Fenn Rau looked unsettled. He whispered something to Arc, who clenched her hands into fists. _Uh-oh,_ Sabine thought.

"Something wrong?" Kor asked.

" _Perimeter breach,"_ Arc said distractedly, her gaze fixed on something off screen. " _We might have company."_

Jaxon shifted his feet. " _I'll get our warriors together."_

There was a pounding sound and the hologram flickered. " _Too late,"_ Rau growled as he unholstered his blaster. " _They're here."_

"Who?" Ezra interrupted and leaned against the table.

But Rau and Jaxon both began to open fire, blasting at something offscreen. Arc ran up to the holoprojector as she took out her dual WESTAR blasters. Sabine could hear her heavy breathing as she fumbled with the camera. " _Kriff it,"_ she was mumbling. " _It's the Empire. Turns out the Death Watch camp isn't safe after all. Bean? I know this is short notice, but we might be coming to Sundari a whole lot sooner than you thought!"_

Arc promptly cut the connection and the hologram flickered once, before dying with a moan. Sabine's eyes flicked around the group and saw her grave expression echoed on their faces.

"Should we send reinforcements?" Luc asked quietly.

"There's nothing we can do," Kor said. He looked down at his hands. "Arc has to get out of this mess herself. It was only a matter of time before the Empire found us at the Death Watch camp."

Ezra seemed to hesitate next to Sabine, and she watched him rub his hands together nervously. "What now?" he said.

Everyone looked to Sabine and she fought to maintain a cool composure. _We can't lay back now,_ Sabine reasoned with herself. _If Arc is coming to Sundari, then we need to be ready for her and the Death Watch. We_ have _to move forward. We have to continue to recruit others to my cause so we'll be ready for when the final battle comes. We'll fight the Empire head on, Mando to Imp'._

 _So, we need more recruits. More soldiers. Where in Sundari is the best place to get them?_

Sabine breath caught in her throat when she realized the answer to her question. _Of course,_ she thought grimly. _Where it all began in the first place._

"…Sabine?" Ezra asked timidly. "You're getting that ingenious plan look."

"We're going back to the Imperial Academy," Sabine said abruptly and forced down the dread that began to worm in her stomach. She glanced to each of her partners. "We need new recruits and that is _exactly_ where we will find them."

* * *

Sabine checked her Mandalorian vambraces over, before clamping them onto her forearms. As Sabine reattached her armor pieces to their rightful place, she felt herself relax. The past two weeks while they had been searching for Bo-Katan, Sabine had had to wear "New Mandalorian" clothes, which meant no armor.

And now that she could finally put her graffitied armor back on, Sabine felt at ease. It had become a second skin on her, her only comfort in her bounty-hunting and rebel days alike.

Sliding her helmet on, Sabine peered through the macrobinocular viewplate, pleased to see tactical displays flicker to life. _Great,_ Sabine thought, _viewplate works. Check._ She slid down the rangefinder on the end of her helmet antenna, also pleased to see it zoom in on anywhere she turned her head. _Rangefinder works. Check._ Sabine took a quick snapshot using the holo-imager she had programmed into the antenna. _Holo-imager works. Check._

There was a pounding on the door that interrupted Sabine's checklist.

"Everyone is gathered in the main entrance," came Bo-Katan's muffled voice. "You best hurry, Mand'alor, if we are to attack the Empire anytime s—"

The automatic door slid open, cutting the lady's sentence off. Bo-Katan was outfitted in her usual blue-and-white armor, helmet under her arm. She was wearing a new headband today, a slate gray one that that held back her shock of red hair.

Sabine's face was emotionless even under her magenta helmet and glassy visor. "I'm glad you came to your senses, Bo-Katan," Sabine said. "Striking an alliance with me."

"Nothing is set in stone." Bo-Katan tilted her head. "However, after this incursion… I will make my choice. Assuming you prove yourself in the heat of battle, Mand'alor."

Sabine walked past the lady and strode down the tunnel, her crimson cloak billowing behind her. "You'll see for yourself," Sabine said calmly. _They'll all see._

* * *

The Imperial Academy of Mandalore was just as dull as Sabine remembered. Sorrowful, half-dead trees lined the walkway to the front doors and the perimeter of the school. There were four landing pads on all four corners of the courtyard for hurried departures and arrivals, and cadets outfitted in familiar black uniforms roamed the area.

Sabine was perched on a building not too far away, helmet over her head, rangefinder zooming into each of the cadets. They all had clean bios. Kids of some wealthy senators, families rich beyond belief.

Next to Sabine, Bo-Katan shifted her weight. "We can't make the attack with the cadets still out in the open."

Sabine shot her an annoyed look. "I know. They're about to go to class, trust me. I still have the bells memorized."

On cue, an alarm rang out and the cadets began to funnel back through the giant, doublewide doors. Sabine smirked to herself and Bo-Katan huffed. "Don't even say it," the lady growled.

"Right," Sabine said. She keyed her vambrace. "East Wing, check in."

" _We're in place, Mand'alor,"_ came Kor's crackling voice from her comlink.

"West wing?"

" _All clear, Sabine,"_ Luc's voice replied.

"South wing."

" _Ready and awaiting orders,"_ came the gruff, growling reply. It was one of Bo-Katan commanders.

Sabine glanced over to her left, seeing Ezra. He was the only person in the raid that wasn't outfitted in armor. Instead, he was still wearing his New Mandalorian clothes—a dark brown jacket with square paneling down the sleeves and a navy V-neck compression shirt that made his electric blue eyes pop.

Ezra looked fidgety. He glanced at her, fingering with the cylinder comlink he had in his hand. Sabine nodded, giving him permission. "All yours, Ez."

Ezra held the comlink to his mouth. "Remember, all wings," he began, "the layout of the Imperial Academy is programmed into each of your gauntlets. Buzz back to us when you've captured your wing and await further orders."

Ezra looked over at Sabine one last time. " _Par kote bal ijaat be Mand'alor,_ " he said without a trace of a Basic accent.

All the commanders from the various wings echoed back the words and Sabine grinned behind her helmet. She almost told Ezra he wasn't _totally_ clueless about her culture after all, when she remember Bo-Katan to her right.

 _She still thinks Ezra's a Mandalorian. How long are we going to keep that up?_ Sabine smirked in spite of herself. She felt smug at the idea of keeping a secret from the stubborn Mando. Bo-Katan deserved worse than that, after all.

Sabine rotated her shoulders and her finger lingered on her helmet, not yet giving the order to converge.

"Scared?" Bo-Katan jeered.

"Thinking," Sabine whispered, her mind racing. "Are the Imperial comm towers jammed?"

"A temporary spike was inserted. Imperial communication will be down for an hour."

"So we have one hour to do this."

Sabine was pretty sure Bo-Katan was rolling her eyes from behind her helmet. "Yes, Wren. We already went over this at the mission briefing. You've got the jitters. Just give the OK already."

Sabine didn't respond and stood to her feet, rising above her crouched colleagues. The Darksaber ignited with a sharp snap- _hiss_ at her side. The ancient blade hummed with black energy and Sabine felt that deep tug in her gut, just like every other time she ignited her lightsaber. It was only then that Sabine realized how much she missed wielding it. "All warriors…" Sabine hollered. "Attack!"

" _Par kote bal ijaat be Mand'alor!_ " someone yelled from behind.

" _PAR KOTE BAL IJAAT BE MAND'ALOR!_ " Sabine's warriors echoed in a war cry, leaping over the building and firing up their jetpacks.

Sabine offered out an arm to Ezra and the teen took a flying leap towards her. They both threw themselves off the building, Ezra clinging to Sabine with one hand, his Mandalorian WESTAR blaster in the other.

They rocketed closer and closer to the ground and Sabine glanced at Ezra, hoping to see him look frightened. But he just gave her a lopsided grin and gripped her tighter. At the last second, Sabine fired up her jetpack and they swooped feet away from the duracrete streets of Sundari.

Sabine brought them around in an arc, flying towards the Academy. She could already see smoke wafting up in the distance from the East wing.

"Kor works quick," Ezra muttered near Sabine's helmet.

She didn't answer, but angled deeper and they swooped near the entrance of the Academy. Ezra jumped off her and landed with a roll, and Sabine slowly descended on the steps, feeling a wave of vertigo pull at her.

She looked up at the towering glass doors of the Academy. Heavy. Blastproof. They reminded her more like the doors to a prison cell.

Sabine's legs felt weak at the thought. She could hear shouting and blasterfire around her but it was distant. Muffled. She had thought she could come here and face her past... Thought she could throw herself right back into it. But the ground she was standing on was cursed, as far as Sabine was concerned.

There were a lot of memories right through those walls. Good ones, like Daalor giving her a piggy-back ride while they raced Ketsu to the cafeteria. Or when the three had teamed up during their midterm projects. But there were bad ones too. Like when Sabine had been forced to undergo special ops training. The Imperials purposely drowned her so that she could know what it felt like, to have water pooling in her lungs and air but a distant memory. Or when the Empire had turned on her weapon and killed her friends in front of her. Made her watch.

Sabine had never been the same after that. She had been plagued with panic attacks and a case of PTSD so lucid it would make Rex blush.

Her knees gave out. The Darksaber's blade dissipated and Sabine put her forehead to the dirt. The Academy... it was the birthplace of everything Sabine knew was wrong with her. It was the embodiment of her past and her blind arrogance. And here Sabine was, kneeling at its feet.

 _No,_ she thought. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she forced herself to her feet. _I am a slave to many things. My fear, my pride. But I will not be a slave to_ you _any longer._

"Sabine," a voice hissed. Ezra came up next to her and shook her shoulder. He shot at something behind her with his free hand. "What are you doing? We have to rush the entrance!"

She watched him and didn't respond. His bronzed face was tight with concentration and sweat pooled at his brow. He was in business mode.

He caught her staring. "What?"

Sabine looked away, suddenly self-conscious. What was wrong with her? "Right," she stammered. _Manda,_ she was _stammering_ now?! "Ezra, post fifteen warriors to guard the entrance and get the rest to round up the stray cadets. Sting blasts only. We need all of them _alive._ "

He ran off to deliver the orders and spared Sabine from further embarrassment. She dug a detonator from one of her pouches and centered herself. _For Daalor,_ she thought. _And Ketsu. And for all the other idiots that were stupid enough to fall for the Empire's schemes. Including me._

Sabine pushed the red button on the detonator and there was a magnificent explosion in the distance. It was Sundari's biggest TIE hangar. Bo-Katan's warriors had planted charges on it earlier and linked them to the detonator.

"That should keep the Empire's aircraft out of the sky," Sabine said under her breath.

The Nite Owls whooped in glee around her, raising their fists victoriously as the explosion spewed inky black smoke into the air.

Turning back to the Academy's glass doors, Sabine joined her guards on the steps. They were holding their own and shooting sting blasts at the frantic cadets that were trying to escape. But a red bolt of plasma suddenly thudded into one of the guards' chest plates. He fell, discombobulated but not dead.

Sabine ran to take his place, just in time to see an Imperial Supercommando flying above the heads of the cadets. He had been the one to deliver the shot. If that traitor managed to take out a few of her guards, the cadets would overrun them and escape. They couldn't afford that.

Sabine dodged another shot from the Imperial Mandalorian and was unholstering her dual pistols when a fresh-faced cadet run up to her and struck her with a fist.

Sabine stumbled back, knowing her helmet had hurt him more than he had hurt her. The other cadets began to approach her, getting gutsy.

Sabine ground her teeth and leveled her arm at the crowd. She triggered the Mandalorian vambrace to fire its repulsor and the horde of cadets were blown backwards by the unseen force.

She glanced up to see the Imperial Supercommando swooping towards her. She held her ground unflinchingly as the man fired at her, his blasts landing feet away from her.

 _Wait,_ she commanded herself.

He got closer. The bolts were inches away.

 _Wait…_

One grazed her pauldron, and Sabine instantly took the Darksaber off the back of her belt.

 _Now!_

Sabine ignited its glowing black blade with a high-pitched _snap-hiss._ She took a flying leap for the Imperial Supercommando, just as the man sailed over her head. The Darksaber sliced clean through his weak, plastoid armor and he dipped down mid-air, sailing throught the Academy's open doors. Turning as an explosion erupted from the man's jetpack, Sabine looked at the dazed and disoriented cadets.

She raised the Darksaber high. "I am Mand'alor the Free," she announced, " the rightful ruler our people. All of you are under our custody until further notice."

Sabine was about to leave when a cadet shouted, "You will not intimidate us!" Sabine glanced him over. It was a boy, fifteen or so, wearing a black and red uniform sprinkled with dust and rubble. "The Empire will destroy you, traitor!"

"I have come to liberate you," Sabine said. "All of you. But it's still your choice. If you are cooperative and hear me out, no one will have to get hurt. You can follow me, your sole ruler, or Gar Saxon, the _Imperial_ Viceroy of Mandalore."

Sabine walked out of the Academy's doors and trotted down the steps, her cloak flowing behind her.

"Specter 6," Sabine said into the comm in her helmet. "Where are you?"

" _Just found a couple stragglers,"_ Ezra's voice said, full of static. " _Where do you want them?"_

"Inside the doors with the rest." Sabine's eyes darting around from inside her helmet. "Hurry. There's more supercommandos inbound."

Sabine's finger left the side of her helmet and she waved a few more guards over. "Get five warriors to guard the Academy entrance," she commanded quickly. "While the rest corral the cadets. And send for Bo-Katan along with her personal aides."

The guards nodded and ran off to deliver her orders. Sabine turned and watched as at least ten Imperial Supercommandos flew across Sundari's sky, their white armor glistening in the fabricated sunlight.

"Karabast," Sabine muttered as she spotted a red painted one amongst the white. She began to run towards the Academy, keying her helmet.

"Kor," she said, "give me some good news."

" _We're picking up the last of the cadets from the classrooms. Everyone's gathering in the courtyard, just like you ordered."_

"Even the instructors and administration?"

" _Yes, Mand'alor."_

"And you've searched them for weapons?"

" _You worry too much. Yes, of course."_

Sabine's finger left her helmet and she skidded to a stop in front of the Academy's steps. Bo-Katan was at the top, about to enter through the doors.

"This way!" Sabine called. She waved her over. "You and your aides!"

The lady jogged to her with her two guards. "What?"

"Tell you on the way," Sabine said and began to run in the opposite direction. "Saxon and a few of his goons are headed this way. You up for it?"

Sabine could imagine Bo-Katan was smiling underneath her helmet. "Always up for sticking it to the Empire." She matched Sabine's pace until they were sprinting.

The guards were tailing the two as Sabine fired up her jetpack and shot into the sky, aimed right for the Imperial Supercommandos. Sabine steeled her nerves, feeling furious anger swell up inside her. Saxon would pay for enslaving her world. Him and the entire Empire. They would all learn just what the consequences were when Mandalorians— _True_ Mandalorians—were pushed around.

Brandishing the Darksaber, Sabine and her warriors slammed into Saxon's, full-speed, mid-air. Sabine coiled her legs and met an Imperial Mandalorian feet first. The Darksaber's blade went straight through his chest plate. She jumped off the man just as quick and flipped in the air, landing on another Mando's back. She sliced his jetpack and jumped away before the man's flailing arms could try to grab her as he spiraled down.

Sabine turned as she bobbed in the air just as someone rammed into her. Sabine sheathed the Darksaber to prevent her from accidentally stabbing herself as she wrestled for control against the Imperial Supercommando. He was strong—far stronger than her—and he attempted to overpower her.

Sabine bashed the man's white-armored helmet with the Darksaber's hilt. But then the Imperial promptly head-butted her in the visor in a classic but violent Keldabe kiss.

Stars flitted across Sabine's open eyes and she dizzily wrestled for control. Sabine kicked the man hard on his plastoid chest plate, her heel forcing the man's breath from his lungs.

The Imperial wheezed. They were descending rapidly, the wind whipping Sabine's cloak around her neck. The Imperial Supercommando suddenly reached up a wild arm and grabbed the bottom of her helmet, yanking her down. Sabine's back was now facing the ground. In a last-ditch attempt to gain the upper hand, Sabine grabbed the bottom of the man's helmet as well and they yanked each other's masks off at the same time.

Sabine froze and her heart stopped as a familiar face met her eyes. _What… the… kriff…_ " _Tristan?!_ " Sabine exclaimed and they hovering to a slow stop.

"Sabine?" Tristan said curiously, tilting his head as if he were confused. "What… What are you _doing_ here?"

It was her brother. Her little brother. Except he wasn't so little anymore. He had the same sun-darkened skin and chestnut hair like she remembered, but his shoulders had grown broader and his face more slender. His dark brows were heavy over slanted eyes, casting dark shadows under his eyelids. He looked awful.

"What am I doing here?" Sabine sputtered. "What are _you_ doing here? Why aren't you at home?" He looked like he needed a solid ten hour nap.

Tristan stared at her. "I work for Saxon now, Sabine. He agreed to restore our clan's honor if I serve the Empire."

Sabine was stunned into silence. " _Saxon?_ " she pressed, wondering if they were talking about the same person. Because "honor" and "Gar Saxon" didn't go hand in hand.

Tristan nodded.

"I...I'm here to overthrow him."

It was his turn to be shocked. " _What?!_ "

Sabine looked up at the aerial skirmish between Bo-Katan, her aides, and the rest of the Imperial Supercommandos. "They need my help. We can talk about this later."

She went to leave but Tristan grabbed her wrist. "No," he growled. "You got us into this mess—I'm not gonna let you ruin this chance for me. Clan Wren finally has a shot to restore our honor after what _you_ did—"

"You've been listening to Mom, haven't you? If you think _this_ is honorable, then you're a fool. The Empire has enslaved our worlds. There's no honor in willingly serving your oppressor."

Tristan sneered at her. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

Sabine jerked her hand from his grip. "I said we can argue about this later, Tristan."

He grabbed her shoulder as she tried to leave again and pulled her back. "I _told_ you—I won't let you fight Saxon and ruin—"

Sabine clocked him in the jaw.

Tristan's eyes rolled back for a split second and Sabine fired up her jetpack. But he came to and grabbed her ankle, dragging them both down.

"Let go!" Sabine yelled as the wind whipped around them. They tumbled through the air, grappling for control.

Tristan unholstered his WESTAR blaster from his hip and Sabine swatted his hand away. The wind whistled in her ears as they plunged. They would be pancakes on a skyscraper if he didn't let go pretty soon...

Sabine shoved her twin blasters into his gut and pulled the trigger, the blast set on stun. It took four shots to pierce his armor and imbed in his nervous system. The jetpack slowed his descent and he rolled to a stop atop a skyscraper and Sabine hovered in the air.

"Sorry," she muttered to her brother. She fired up her jetpack and shot back into the sky. She joined the fray, dual blasters hot, and pushed Tristan to the very back of her mind.

"Nice of you to join the party," Bo-Katan quipped as Sabine found herself back-to-back with the woman.

"Didn't want you to have all the fun," Sabine replied.

Sabine suddenly pushed off of Bo-Katan's jetpack, holstering her blasters, and yanked out the Darksaber. She ignited the blade at the last second and ran one of the Imps' through.

"Wren!" someone called.

Sabine turned to see a red-armored Gar Saxon, his blaster trained on her. "You're _mine_."

Sabine deflected the first shot with the shield emitter equipped on her vambrace. And the second, and the third, when she finally rushed Saxon. She spit fire from the flamethrower on her vambrace and Saxon shielded his face.

While he was blinded, Sabine darted around to his back. She clamped her arms underneath Saxon and pinned him.

Bo-Katan seized the moment and shot him with a WESTAR blaster bolt. It struck Saxon in the side and Sabine shoved the man away, firing another shot at his jetpack.

The remaining Imperial Supercommandos darted to their leader and ushered him down. They fired warning shots in Sabine's direction, preventing her from finishing the job.

Sabine turned and rocketed back to the Academy, Bo-Katan hot on her tail. They had to get back to Ezra anyway.

Sabine alighted in the Academy's courtyard. There was already a large crowd of cadets and instructors. They cast her wary looks but Sabine saw the panic in their eyes. They were afraid.

Sabine slid off her helmet and shook out her hair, dislodging her sweat-soaked bangs from her forehead. Bo-Katan took off her helmet as well but, of course, her hair was in perfect condition. Not a single red hair out of place. "Good work out there," Bo-Katan commended. She sounded breathless. "Nice form."

"Thanks."

Ezra came to stand next to Sabine, shouldering his Mandalorian pistol. "All the cadets are here," he said.

Sabine patted his shoulder and took her place on a makeshift stage in the center of the courtyard. She spun her helmet in her hands before cradling it under her arm "Everyone!" Sabine called, holding up her free arm. "Pay close attention." She waited as several Nite Owl warriors shoved a couple more cadets into the mob. That was everyone. Every single cadet, instructor, janitor, and principle was gathered before her. Most looked skittish, shooting shifty-eyed glances at their captors. Others looked angry and defiant, jutting their chins out boldly at Sabine.

 _They think we're going to kill them,_ Sabine realized and compassion tugged at her heart. _They think they either have to either choose between joining us, or dying._

"First off," Sabine said immediately, "I want to say that all of you have the right to choose whether or not you want to join us. I swear to not take the lives of any cadets today," Sabine paused. "I am here to _liberate_ you, not intimidate you. Gar Saxon has been ruling our world with an iron fist, making our people slave away in the mines without pay. This is not _peace,_ or _security_ or _justice_ … Mandalorians, this is _enslavement!_ How long will all of you stand for this?"

Sabine's eyes raked the crowd. She hoped they were listening. _They have to know what the Empire is capable of,_ Sabine thought, biting her lip. _They can't be like I once was… naïve and gullible. If they follow their orders blindly, they'll end up in the same nightmare I was in._

"Gar Saxon," Sabine continued, "is a murderer and a traitor, without a shred of honor in his body. He wiped out the Protectors of Concord Dawn mercilessly and cowardly. He attempted to take power over this planet, but failed because of his lack of honor. So he went through other means. He struck a deal with the Empire."

The cadets glanced at each other, and a few shuffled their feet uncomfortably.

"Our brothers and sisters toil day and night in the mines to hunt for _beskar._ And do we see any of it? Any of the invincible metal that makes our Mandalorian armor? It goes straight to the Emperor to fund his Star Destroyers and his TIE Defenders. Saxon enslaves our people, he provides the Empire with _our_ metal, and then he raises us _Mando'ade_ as soldiers in the Empire's ranks!"

Sabine sighed. The rest of her practice speech rolled off her tongue. "I am Mand'alor the Free," she said firmly, "and I am offering all of you a chance to _be_ free. We Mandalorians were never meant to be ruled by an outside force. If our ancestors could see us now, what would they say? How would they react to our enslavement?"

Sabine began to pace the stage, something strong and furious swelling up inside her. "Gar Saxon has tainted what it means to be a True Mandalorian," she growled. "He promises peace, but we are Mandalorians! We were never meant to be a meek, peaceful race!

"Saxon promises security, but are Mandalorians _safe?_ Do we need to feel protected when we have the strength to protect ourselves?

"Saxon promises justice," she continued, her upper lip curled in a snarl. "But does the cowardly execution of the Protectors sound like justice to you? What about our brothers and sisters sitting in Mandalorian jail cells? Is expressing your stance on Imperial tyranny worthy of enslavement? Tell me, all of you, how long will you stand for this?"

Sabine stopped at the edge of the stage and looked down at the crowd of Mandalorians below her. She heaved a heavy sigh and hesitantly took the Darksaber off the back of her belt.

Igniting it's glowing black blade, Sabine raised it high and stared down at her people. "I won the Darksaber in combat," she proclaimed. "I have every right to it. My ancestors before me ruled all of Mandalore with this blade, and I intend to continue the tradition. But," Sabine added, "all of you must make your own choice. You are all Mandalorians, so you live by the _Resol'nare_. Rally to my cause, or follow Saxon. Choose."

For a heart-stopping moment, no one moved. Then, a familiar voice broke in. "…I will join you," Bo-Katan announced and kneeled in front of the stage.

Sabine could hear whispers from all around the courtyard.

"…Bo-Katan?" one breathed.

"…leader of the Nite Owls…" another whispered.

"…Clone Wars, she fought against that traitor, Maul…"

Sabine lifted her chin as Bo-Katan said the ancient words. "I swear," she began, "my life, my clan, and my warriors to you, Mand'alor the Free. Let the _manda_ look down upon my oath and honor it." The redhead looked up as she breathed the last words. " _Par kote bal ijaat be Mand'alor."_

Sabine took a shaky breath and looked out among the cadets. Suddenly, one broke out from the crowd, his hand raised. "I will join you, Mand'alor!" the cadet proclaimed.

"I will as well," another said, coming to stand by the boy.

"Me too!" another shouted.

The courtyard erupted in yells and raised hands, countless cadets coming before the stage. Sabine was taken aback as the crowd surged forward. But still, there were many cadets and Imperial instructors alike that hung back, glaring daggers at Sabine.

She cleared her throat and held up a hand. The courtyard immediately fell silent. "If you do not wish to join me," she began, "you are free to leave. If you are not with me, then you are against me and have taken the side of the Empire. Go now."

Slowly, hesitantly, about half the cadets and nearly all the instructors parted from the group and went back into the Imperial Academy, no doubt to send a distress signal to the Star Destroyers circling Mandalore's atmosphere.

Sabine looked out at her people, pride swelling up inside her. _I'm really doing it,_ she realized. _I am leading my people. There might be no turning back… but I'm just getting started._

Bo-Katan stood at the bottom of the stage and raked the crowd with a piercing glare. "True Mandalorians!" she shouted. "Bow before your rightful leader!"

Sabine raised the Darksaber victoriously and her people instantly fell to their knees.

" _An olaromijaat_ ," Bo-Katan shouted in Mando'a, " _Mand'alor te Mav!_ "

" _AN OLAROMIJAAT,_ " the cadets echoed, their heads bowed, " _MAND'ALOR TE MAV!_ "

ALL HAIL, they had said, MAND'ALOR THE FREE.


	16. Chapter 16: Family Ties

**Hi everyone, Specter 7 here. We are nearing the climactic battle for Sundari in only a few short chapters! So be sure to buckle up ma dudes 'cause it's gonna get epic. Thanks for all your support! Every Follow/Fav & Review is greatly appreciated ;) **

**May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 16: Family Ties

* * *

"There's two kinds of family… There's the kind like me and Kaeden, where you get born in the right place to the right people and you're stuck with one another. If you're lucky, it turns out okay. The other kind of family is the kind you find."

 _-Miara Larte_

* * *

Sabine gripped the edges of the holotable, her eyes darting across the holographic display.

"We can house the Death Watch here," she said, pointing to part of the map, "and here. Considering your barracks are full."

Bo-Katan shrugged next to her. "It will be cramped," the redhead admitted, "But it could work if your cousin is cooperative."

Kor cupped his chin in his hand as he stared at the layout with them. "It isn't like Arc has much of a choice," he said finally. "You were kind enough to take them in. She can't complain."

"Knowing Arc," Luc muttered, "I'm sure she'll find a way to."

"When will she get here?" Bo-Katan asked Sabine.

Sabine glanced over. "Any minute now. So we need to get these sleeping arrangements figured out."

Ezra walked up to their conversation, a mug of caf in his hand. "What's in here?" he asked, pointing to a lower level of the map, a pocket in the holographic tunnels.

"Ammunition storage," Bo-Katan said curtly. "No room for Arc's warriors. I would assume that you, a warrior from a prestigious house like the Ordos, could tell the difference between a barrack and a weapons vault."

Sabine saw Ezra look at Bo-Katan blankly, the early morning making his mind sluggish. _Your Mando cover_ , she thought to Ezra, subtly kicking him. _You_ di'kut _, stop looking at her like that! You'll blow your cover!_

And as Kor spoke, Sabine suddenly realized that they had forgotten to tell him about the whole lie. "Wait…" the blonde man said slowly. "You told her you were a Mandalorian?"

Bo-Katan looked shocked. "He's not?"

"I am?" Ezra asked confusedly.

"He is!" Sabine intervened.

They all looked at each other and Sabine finally sighed. _Karabast._ "…He's not," Sabine said eventually, glancing sheepishly at Bo-Katan. "Ezra lied back in the interrogation room."

She glanced over at the Padawan to see his face light up with recognition. "Oh! Oh, right. I totally forgot about that."

Sabine wanted to strangle him. " _Di'kut_ ," she muttered under her breath. Trust Ezra to forget about his own cover.

Bo-Katan glanced between the two of them and opened her mouth to speak when the automatic door to the main tunnel slid open.

"Knock knock?" an achingly familiar voice called.

Everyone turned to see a dark green armored Mandalorian, who stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of blue and white colored Nite Owls.

"Arc!" they all said in unison.

Sabine's cousin took off her black-striped helmet, revealing a slender face and dark brown hair that was knotted back into a messy bun. "Long time no see, cuz," Arc said, slinging her free arm over Sabine's shoulders.

Sabine cocked an eyebrow, secretly happy to see the Death Watch leader. "It's only been a few weeks," she said ruefully. "We went eight years without seeing each other before."

"Never again!" Arc exclaimed, gesturing wildly as they walked up to the holotable, Arc still leaning against Sabine heavily. Her cousin looked at the projection curiously. "What's this?" she asked.

"A layout of the tunnels," Bo-Katan answered, her red hair gleaming from the light of the hologram.

Sabine felt Arc stiffen and let her arm drop off Sabine's shoulders. "Lady Bo-Katan Kryze," Arc said and bowed slightly. "Good to see you in person again."

"The feeling is mutual," Bo-Katan said. "I trust you haven't made a mess of my Death Watch?"

Sabine saw the muscles around Arc's scar twitch at Bo-Katan mentioning "her" Death Watch, but she had the better sense to not address it. "The Death Watch _camp,_ perhaps," Arc said, smirking. "But as far as the warriors go… they are all loyal to the new Mand'alor."

Sabine watched as Bo-Katan nodded approvingly.

"My warriors need a place to rest," Arc continued. "We've been fighting Imperials for days at the old camp, most without sleep."

Bo-Katan inclined her head. "If you'll come with me, I can lead all of you to—"

"—Kor will get the warriors," Arc interrupted and Sabine could swear that her voice sounded strained. Arc looked to her second-in-command. "They're in the entrance tunnel waiting for the all clear."

Sabine saw Kor knit his blonde brows at Arc's pained expression but nodded curtly. Him and Bo-Katan went to meet the Death Watch members.

After they left and Ezra and Luc went to go talk to Jaxon, Arc leaned heavily against Sabine again.

"You okay?" Sabine asked.

Arc shrugged, but immediately winced. "Just tired."

Sabine suddenly noticed her cousin held her right side discreetly and seemed to have trouble swallowing.

"You're hurt," Sabine realized, trying to peek at Arc's wound. "Stormtroopers?"

Arc tried to move away from her. "I'm just tired," she insisted and Sabine knew it was taking every ounce of strength Arc had to not double over.

"Arc," Sabine said. "Let me help you."

Her cousin's hackles seemed to raise at the idea. "I can dress my own wounds."

"Arc," Sabine repeated, looking at her softly. "We're cousins. You haven't been in my life for most of it. _Please_ let me help you."

Arc clenched her jaw and her features contrasted sharply in the dim light. "Fine," she bit out.

Twenty minutes later, Sabine had her cousin in her own roomy quarters, sitting on her bed.

"Nice place you got here," Arc said with a look around the room.

Sabine didn't answer and got out a medpac from the top of her closet. "It's a blaster wound, right?"

Arc rubbed her nose with her thumb. "Just a graze."

Sabine shot her a look.

"…Fine," Arc relented, glancing at the floor. "It's a bad graze, okay? I didn't have time to bandage it good before we left."

Sabine opened the medpac on her bed and pulled the hem of Arc's top up slightly, revealing an olive-skinned, tightly muscled stomach that was wrapped with gauze, a crimson-brown stain bleeding through. Sabine glanced up at her cousin and quickly got the young woman a sparring staff she had in the corner of her room to grip while Sabine worked.

"Just don't knock me out, okay?" Sabine said, only partly joking. "Because this is going to hurt."

Sabine knelt next to her cousin's side and as gently as she could, peeled the gauze off. Arc made a guttural sound of pain and cursed, gripping the sparring staff hard. So hard, Sabine swore she heard the metal creak.

Peeling the last bit off and still being conscious, Sabine sighed and set the nasty gauze to the side.

"Well," Sabine muttered, "you bandaged it enough to stop the bleeding. You're just gonna have to take it easy for a few days so the scab doesn't break."

Arc said nothing, and Sabine figured her cousin wouldn't heed her advice anyway, so she set to work. Sabine began to wash away the old blood gingerly, trying to avoid the patches of burns from the shot. She had seen worst wounds, but it was still ugly. From the looks of it, the graze wasn't bad enough that Arc would need stitches or to be immersed in a bacta tank, but bad enough to sting like fire. She would be fine.

Sabine could see Arc wrinkling her nose in her peripheral vision. Her cousin opened her mouth to speak, but soon closed it again.

"It's okay," Sabine said finally, trying hard to not smile as she shook an irrigation bulb and squirted the cleansing fluid on Arc's wound. "No need to for thank-you's."

Arc glanced at her, but Sabine kept working. "I know," Arc said finally. "…Thanks anyway."

Sabine smiled as she smoothed ointment over the second-degree burns seared into Arc's side. After lathering the swelled and blistering skin with the cream from the medpac, Sabine peeled off the slick guard on a bacta patch, the sickly sweet smell of the medicine filling her nostrils.

Sabine stuck her tongue out unconsciously as she carefully stamped the bacta patch onto Arc's wound. "There," Sabine said finally, relaxing as she pulled Arc's shirt back down. "All done."

Sabine stood and went to wash her hands in the room's refresher, watching her cousin in the mirror. Arc was still sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her wound absently.

 _Bet she feels awkward,_ Sabine thought to herself. _Arc hasn't had to deal with anyone caring for her in at least eight years._

"Hey," Sabine called, trying to start up a conversation. "You'll, uh, you'll never guess who I saw the other day."

Arc shifted her weight and grimaced. "Who?

Sabine rinsed her hands under the faucet. "Tristan."

Arc laughed. "That little kid. How's your brother doing these days?"

"Fine, I guess. He's way taller than me now. But he was one of Saxon's dogs."

"No."

"Yep. White armor and everything." Sabine dried her hands on a towel and walked back into the room. "I gave him a good bruise on his jaw though."

Arc's lips quirked. "Wish I coulda seen that."

Sabine hesitantly came to sit on the edge of the bed and chewed on her bottom lip.

Arc narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"I was just thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"The braid." Sabine gestured to the blonde Padawan braid weaved into Arc's natural dark hair. "Where did you get it?" Dread sank like a stone at the pit of Sabine's stomach, because she knew she already knew the answer. But after being with her cousin these last few months, Sabine told herself it couldn't be true. Arc was aggressive, but she wasn't _murderous_. She wouldn't kill someone like Ezra—a Jedi like Ezra. She _wouldn't._

Arc's dark green eyes stayed on her unwaveringly. "You've studied the Jedi's tactics and traditions." It scared Sabine how void of emotion Arc's voice was. "You know what it is."

Sabine's dread solidified. "You killed one… didn't you?"

Arc looked away, her dark bangs hanging in her eyes. "Yes," she admitted. "Ending the life of a Jedi in our culture is considered a show of great skill… but I feel no pride."

Sabine frowned. "Then why keep the trophy?"

Her cousin seemed to grow distraught and attempted to stand, but she winced and settled back on the edge of Sabine's bed. "It's not a trophy," she growled and let out a slight moan of pain. "Otherwise, I would have kept his lightsaber on my belt. The braid is a… is a reminder to me." Her voice grew strained. It was hardly above a whisper. "A reminder of how much I miss him."

Sabine narrowed her eyes, beginning to put the pieces together. "Arc," she said slowly, picking her words right. She was stepping into dangerous territory here. "Did you—were you in love with a—"

Suddenly, the room's speakers crackled. " _Mand'alor!"_ a panicked voice said. " _Mand'alor the Free, do you copy?"_

Sabine could have cursed. "What is it?" she snapped.

" _There are visitors here to see you, Mand'alor! We require your immediate presence."_

Sabine glanced at Arc, not wanting to leave her cousin's side. Especially just when they were getting somewhere! "Is it completely necessary?" Sabine asked, annoyed. "Can't you just patch… whoever in?"

" _No, ma'am. We require your immediate presence."_

"I got that part," Sabine muttered. "Fine. I'll be there. Escort the visitors to the courtroom and have my commanders waiting for me."

" _Yes, Mand'alor."_

The speakers crackled as the communication was cut. Sabine took a long look at Arc.

"I can come with you," Arc offered, beginning to rise.

Sabine laid a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back down. "You need to rest," Sabine said and absently reflected that she sounded like Hera. "Maybe take a shower too."

Arc wrinkled her nose. "You saying I stink?"

Sabine decided to ignore the question. Arc just _looked_ like she hadn't cleaned herself in a while. Her hairline had an obvious film over it, from sweat drying repeatedly. Dirt and dust was caked onto Arc's face and her lip was busted, the dry blood crusting over it.

"You just look like you need a shower," Sabine said finally, pulling her eyes away from Arc's war-weary body. "I imagine running from the Empire for four days straight can take its toll on anyone."

"Crinking right," Arc muttered finally, twisting her body experimentally. "Go have fun with your politics, little Mand'alor. I'll be sleeping my worries away."

Sabine twisted her lips. "…Then you'll take a shower?" she tried hopefully.

Arc tossed a pillow at her and Sabine ducked away with a yelp, dashing out the room.

Sabine walked down the main tunnel, her heels clicking on the metal floor. She tugged her helmet over her head. Sabine reached the courtroom's backdoor and rotated her shoulders, getting ready to meet the "visitors" face-to-face. Or, rather, face-to-helmet.

The automatic door slid open with a whine, and Sabine's viewplate lit up with tactical displays, accessing the new area and already calculating the quickest escape route. And with a first glance at the people gathered before her, she figured she might need it.

"So," the Countess Ursa Wren said coldly, looking at her with brown eyes as cutting as sharpened _beskar,_ "the rumors are true, then. My daughter has proclaimed herself Mand'alor."

Sabine's eyes darted underneath her helmet from Mother to Tristan, the latter still wearing that stupid white Imperial Supercommando armor. _He went and told Mom_ , Sabine thought flatly, trying hard to ignore the fact that her heart throbbed with unseen pain. _Wonderful._

Mom had seemed to age ten years since the last time Sabine had seen her, although it had been half the time. Faint wrinkles cut themselves at the corners her mother's eyes and her dark brown hair that was tightly held back in spiraling braids was now streaked with gray. Stress seemed to be taking an even greater toll on the woman, Sabine realized, when she saw Mother's gaunt cheeks, stiff stance, and cold expression.

"Mother—," Sabine began, her voice strained, when the said person cut her off.

"—Of all the things I had imagined a child like you would do," her mother said, scorn dripping in her voice, "this surely beats all of them."

Sabine clenched her jaw underneath her helmet. _Keep your cool_ , Sabine chided mentally. _You're the Mand'alor now. You have an image to represent._ Sabine didn't answer her mother and slowly, cooly, took a few short steps to where the judge would sit in the courtroom, the seat being the closest thing Sabine had to a throne.

She took her magenta-colored helmet off with a flourish, before crossing her legs and setting the helmet to the side of her. Sabine glanced quickly with a flick of her amber eyes to the right and the left. Bo-Katan, Kor, and Fenn Rau were on one side, while Luc, Ezra, and Jaxon were on the other. _Good,_ she thought privately. _My commanders are here to back me up in case things go south._

Sabine still didn't speak but observed her mother silently as the woman continued on. "By the _manda_ ," Mom spat with contempt. "This is nonsense! You should be held for trial for your actions, child! Not sit on a throne like a pompous fool!"

Sabine resisted the urge to quip back; ' _Like you?'_ and continued to listen to the woman monologue.

"Do you _hear_ me, Sabine?" Mother growled, risking a step up the stairs. "Enough of this façade! You are no ruler, no… _Mand'alor_ , by any means. I am taking you home now."

Ursa Wren walked up a few more steps and Sabine's guards immediately pointed their blasters at her, causing Mom's guards to train their blasters on them as well.

Sabine wanted to laugh coldly at the scene before her in bitter amusement. Mother acted as if Sabine were a kid out past curfew and not the leader of the entire Mandalorian race. Sabine's heart was racing at being confronted by her own mother, but she kept a mask of indifference on her face.

Sabine leisurely lifted a hand, signaling her guards to stand down.

"Enough of this nonsense," Mom insisted, her empty brown eyes darting from Sabine to her guards. "You are leaving _now._ "

It was Ezra who spoke up. "Not happening," he growled and Sabine could practically see the anger drifting off him in waves. Everything about Ezra's taut, tense stance said _DANGER! WARNING! ABOUT TO EXPLODE!_

"This is a family matter, boy," Mother sniffed. "My daughter being the Mand'alor is downright—"

"—Ridiculous?" Sabine spoke up coldly, keeping her face emotionless. "Unreal? Unfit?"

Mother's face turned stony. "Sabine—"

" _Enough_ ," Sabine ordered. There was a long pause and she finally spoke again, sliding off her throne and standing up. "I am in command here. And if your single purpose for traveling to Sundari was to fetch me back like a child in need of scolding, then you are going to be sorely disappointed."

Mom reared back as if she'd been slapped, and Sabine saw Tristan's eyebrows shoot up from the corner of her eye.

Sabine's heartbeat was loud in her ears and her breath rattled in her chest. She could hardly believe what she was doing. If it wasn't for the cloak around her body or the Darksaber on her belt, Sabine didn't know if she would have the strength to speak against her mother.

"Sabine," Mom sputtered. "You are being ridiculous! Come with us now, child, and leave these silly politics behind—"

"You're not to call me that," Sabine said, pulling rank over her mother. Her mouth felt unnaturally dry. "You will address me as Mand'alor the Free, just like everyone else."

That shut her up. Mom stayed staring at Sabine, as if Sabine had been speaking in a language she didn't understand. Finally, her mother asked quietly, "May we speak… alone?"

Sabine stiffened. _The last thing I want is to be holed up in a room with her,_ she thought. _She… She's so power-hungry she'll probably want to take my leadership from me._

Sabine hesitated. Well, she never did want to lead Mandalore in the first place. She kinda… got pushed into this whole ordeal. But, Sabine was here now, wearing _this_ cape, and Ursa Wren was not.

Mustering every ounce of dignity she had left, Sabine grabbed her helmet in a controlled manner and walked forward, the small crowd of Mandalorians parting before her. She led her mother out of the courtroom and into one of the pockets from the main tunnel, the automatic door sliding shut behind them.

Sabine didn't turn to face her mother, instead laid a hand on the doorframe. "What do you want?"

" _Sabine_ ," Mom stressed. "It's me, your mother. Talk to me. I haven't seen you in years."

"Now _there's_ the greeting I was waiting for. Why couldn't you have started with that?"

"Now listen to me, young lady. I now things might be strained between us but I am _still_ your mother—"

"Believe me," Sabine hissed and whipped around. "You've made that abundantly clear. Tell me, what are you doing here? You didn't come just because you missed me, right?"

Mother's guard slipped back up. "The Empire is after your head, my child. I've come to return you home and grant you a trial with the elders. Gar Saxon—"

"That's another thing! Gar Saxon; how could you side with him? After everything the Empire did—after everything they made me do?"

She looked away and her eyes got a haunted look in them. "Don't you think I tried to stop it? Mandalore was on its knees before the Emperor, and he gave us a choice. Side with him... or Clan Wren would be destroyed."

Sabine frowned. "You made a choice, Mother, but you still have a chance to make the right one. You can fight back. You don't have to stay under Saxon's thumb—"

"' _Fight back?'_ " Mother exclaimed in a cold laugh. "It's all I can do to keep the other clans from destroying us because of what you did. This isn't a game of guns and fists, child. This is politics; diplomacy."

"Trust me," Sabine said dryly, thinking back to the dozens of speeches she had written on her free time the past couple months. "I'm aware. But look, I could use.." Sabine trailed off and forced the words out of her mouth. "Erm. I could use your... help. The other leading houses would listen to you if you vouched for me as the new Mand'alor."

Mother arched a brow. " _Other?_ "

Sabine pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered under her breath. "I need to make a pamphlet or something I can hand out so I can stop repeating myself. Okay, Mother, I've recruited House Ordo, House Kryze, House Caladon, the Protectors, and most of House Vizsla, not including a few scattered clans. Our current plan is to invade Sundari after our troops gather and take it back over, usurping Saxon and liberating our people from the mines. We could use Clan Wren's warriors."

Mother narrowed her eyes. "I'm sure you could. But I did not come for you to recruit me; I came to retrieve you. You're leaving this silly Mand'alor business behind _right_ now and you will return to Krownest with your brother and I."

Sabine stared at her. _Did she not hear_ a word _I said?_ "But Mother—"

"Enough." She grabbed her wrist. "You have nothing to rally the warriors with; nothing to your name other than a traitor's brand—"

Sabine jerked her wrist back and slid the Darksaber off her belt. She ignited the blade with a snap- _hiss_ and Mother gaped at it.

"Is that..."

"The Darksaber," Sabine answered, waving the weapon around. "This is my claim to the Mandalorian throne. I won it in a duel with my cousin, your niece."

She narrowed her eyes. "Arc? She is _hardly_ a worthy adversary—"

"She's the leader of the Death Watch and the head of House Caladon. Guess you haven't been keeping up with the times. _Anyway,_ I'm not leaving with you. So you can tell Tristan to lay off and tell Dad I missed him not coming to see me. Although, I mean, I could see why he didn't; considering the mission..." Her mother's face fell and Sabine's voice faded. "What?"

She turned away from her. "After you left, I never had the chance to tell you."

Panic seized Sabine's heart and she stepped forward. "What? Tell me what?"

"Your... father. He's dead."

The realization hit Sabine like a blaster shot. And yes, she had been shot before so she knew what it felt like. Sabine grabbed her gut and fought the urge to crumple to the ground. "Was it because of me?"

Mother finally met her eyes. "Yes."

Sabine's heartbeat roared in her ears. Her knuckles were white on the Darksaber hilt. "Liar."

Her mother knit her brows and tried to put a hand on Sabine's shoulder. "Sabine—"

The girl swatted her hand a way and backed into the wall. "Liar!" Her voice broke and she slid to the ground. _Dad..._ "He didn't deserve any of this— _I_ created the weapon, why did he suffer for it?"

Mother looked down at her with icy eyes. "Someone had to pay for your mistake, my child. In this case it was your father. But if you continue on with this silly campaign? Saxon will make sure _everyone_ you love will be the sacrifice for your blunders. This is the easiest option, dear." She offered Sabine her hand. "You can walk away from all of it, right now. We can become a family again. Don't you want that?"

Sabine was tempted to take it. She was tempted to go with her mother and hope against hope that she could earn her love back. She was tempted to leave this cursed blade here, along with all the misfortune it brought with it.

But then she thought about everyone on the _Ghost._ She thought about Arc when Sabine had bandaged her wound. She thought about Ezra when he had hugged her in the tunnels and refused to leave her side. She thought about Kor, and Luc, and Rau, and even Bo-Katan and Torian.

"I already have a family," Sabine said, mustering enough strength to stumble to her feet. She pointed the Darksaber at her mother. "I...I don't need anything from you."

Mother's eyes darkened and her lips twisted wryly. "And your father called _me_ stubborn. Now I see it in you."

The tip of the Darksaber lowered slightly. "What do you see?" Sabine's brows were knit over glassy amber eyes. _What does she see in me?_

"A warrior," Mother answered stiffly. "Not the one I hoped… but still."

Sabine let the blade linger near her mother for a moment longer before retracting its blade. "Well," Sabine said as she walked past her. "I _am_ your daughter." She bent her head close to Mother's ear, spitting the last words.

" _How could I be anything less?_ "

* * *

Tristan Wren exited the courtroom, flanked by the Wren guards. He saw his sister and his mother exit one of the side rooms. Mother's gaze was hard and icy, the way it got when she was disappointed in Tristan or Sabine.

Sabine didn't even look at him. She stalked past him and the Wren guards and went back to the courtroom. The door slid shut behind her and he heard a muffled crash and guttural yell.

Mother came to stand next to him. "Come," she said quietly. "We're leaving."

He struggled to keep pace with her as they pulled out of earshot of the Wren guards. "What happened?"

"She's childish," Mother said briskly. "As always. She refused to be persuaded to come back with us."

Tristan heard another distant crash. "She sounds upset," he commented. "What'd you tell her?"

"That her father was dead."

Tristan stopped cold in his tracks. "What?"

"Close your mouth, son. You look like a codfish."

His jaw snapped shut and he hurried to catch up to her. "Why'd you say that? You know Dad's being held in a jail cell somewhere." He paused. "I mean… he is, right?"

"Yes. I had a video conference with him a rotation ago."

"So why? Why would you tell her that? She deserves to know he's alive."

"She deserves nothing." Mother's voice faltered. "I… I thought perhaps it would sway her decision to come with us. If she knew he was somewhere in Sundari, she would never leave."

"So she can't know."

Mother said nothing. Tristan's wheels turned in his head and he absently rubbed his jaw. It was still swollen. "Mother," he began hesitantly, "what do we do now? We're not going to leave her, are we?"

"Of course not. Whether we approve of her actions or not, she's still family." Mother paused and Tristan shrank back. He had a feeling he wouldn't like whatever she said next. "I… might have a plan."


	17. Chapter 17: Calm Before the Storm

**Hey everyone! Specter7 here. I apologize for the sorta late update; school is vicious. Anyway, after this chapter we will have reached our climax— The Capture of Sundari. This has been an awesome ride, friends! Couldn't be happier for how everything's transpired. Don't forget to follow/fav & review if you haven't already! And remember,**

 **May the _manda_ be with you.**

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 17: Calm Before the Storm

* * *

"Not all battle scars are on one's body."

 _-Mandalorian proverb_

* * *

Sabine, Bo-Katan, Arc, Ezra, and Rau all stood atop the skyscraper, watching the rising sun inside the safety of Sundari's biodome.

"Everything is coming along nicely," Bo-Katan observed. "You have the support of some of the most powerful Houses on Mandalore."

"Right," Ezra jumped in and began to list names off on his fingers. "You have House Ordo, House Caladon, House Kryze, and most of House Vizsla."

Sabine nodded briefly and kept her eyes on the dark red sliver on the horizon.

"Hey," Ezra continued, "how come it's only _most_ of House Vizsla? Can't you just… I dunno, message the leader and ask them to join you?"

Sabine cocked an eyebrow. Did he seriously think it was that easy?

It was Fenn Rau who answered the boy. "House Vizsla was disbanded when the Empire took over Mandalore. Through the Darksaber, we have been able to slowly reunite the House, although most of its members were killed during the wipe-out."

"Clan Kryze was as well," Bo-Katan added. "My direct relatives were exterminated by the take-over of Clan Kryze, but my family stretches far and wide. I've been tracking these people down since you came here, Mand'alor."

"What about Luc?" Ezra asked suddenly. "I thought his clan was part of House Kryze. And if it is, then you're the leader of House Kryze, so shouldn't you be able to order them to join you instead of Luc having to travel all the way to his homeworld?"

Bo-Katan pinched the bridge of her nose, her patience seeming thin. "Clan Teneau has slipped under my radar since I left the Death Watch," she muttered finally. "Luc is from Clan Teneau, so he's gone to convince them to join Mand'alor the Free."

Ezra nodded slowly. "Mandalorian stuff is complicated," he said eventually, as if putting a lot of thought into the statement.

"It sure is _something_ ," Arc spoke up for the first time in their conversation.

Sabine shot her a sideways look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Arc shook her head and glanced away. Sabine watched her rub her side, where the blaster wound had been. Arc had been acting… _odd_ all week. Ever since she had arrived at the tunnels, Arc had been distanced. With all the preparation for the capture of Sundari, Sabine hadn't had the time to really talk it out with her.

Bo-Katan straightened. "We have other business to attend to."

"Right," Sabine nodded, accepting the change of subject. "Did House Skirata respond to my message?"

Rau answered. "No," he said briskly, his grip tightening on his dark blue helmet. "Nor mine. Besides, House Skirata was never much for aggression or fighting."

"They were too passive," Bo-Katan muttered. "Too much like my sister."

"Who's your sister?" Ezra piped up.

Sabine ignored the question. She would have to fill her best friend in on the Mando details later. "Still," Sabine said, "the extra troops would have been welcome."

"Speaking of extra troops," Arc said, her voice hollow, "has anyone heard from Clan Vizsla?"

They all looked at each other. Bo-Katan was the first to respond. "Ever since the wipe-out, Clan Vizsla has completely disbanded. I suspect there is _someone_ leading a small cell of them, somewhere. But even if we were able to track them down, there's no guarantee that they would fight or even be on our side."

Fenn Rau stared at Arc. "You know this."

Arc bristled. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. But don't _any_ of you think it's odd that the one of the most pure-blooded clans are nowhere to be found?"

"At this point we have bigger things to worry about," Sabine said cautiously. "We can't keep the element of surprise for long. We need to make sure _all_ of our warriors are ready the second I give the order. When are the zealots from Concordia arriving?"

"Within the rotation," Rau said.

"And Torian Ordo?"

"Any day now."

Suddenly, the door behind them slid open and a Nite Owl warrior ran up to them. "Mand'alor," he said, kneeling before Sabine. "Commander Kor has returned from the Imperial raid and he strongly suggests you and your subjects get underground. The Empire is shortening the time in between patrols and a squadron of TIE fighters should be deploying soon."

Sabine nodded curtly. "Go on ahead," she said to the others. "I'll be down in a second."

Her companions followed the Nite Owl warrior inside but Ezra lingered at her side. "You want company?"

Sabine shook her head, not unkindly. "I need to be alone."

Ezra left her to her thoughts and Sabine sat with a sigh on the skyscraper's roof. She watched the glorious sunrise, even though the biodome's transparent glass did not allow for a full display of beauty.

Sabine crossed her legs in a meditative stance like she'd seen Kanan and Ezra do. As the bliss of solitude sunk in on Sabine, she felt her shoulders relax. The peace reminded her of the calm before the storm. With such a perfect sunrise, who would ever think that the horizon was about to be stained with smoke and ash?

A cold breeze ruffled Sabine's hair and she pulled her crimson cloak tight around her body, shivering. Despite the rising sun, the temperature felt only a few degrees over freezing point. Perhaps Sundari's synthetic weather-fabricator was malfunctioning. It wasn't supposed to get this cold until another four months to maintain the seasons.

Sabine's eyes widened. She had a brilliant idea.

As TIE fighters screamed in the distance, staining the perfect sunrise, Sabine scrambled to her feet and dashed through the door frame and into the skyscraper, eager to tell others of the plan slowly beginning to be concocted in Sabine's young genius mind.

* * *

"If we could get into _this_ compartment," Sabine said, pointing to a red dot on the holographic map, "we can overload the power cells and manipulate where the power feed channels into."

"Resulting in a city-wide winter," Kor finished, nodding slowly. "Quite ingenious."

Most of Mandalore was a desert. Any life on the planet could only survive in biodomes; half-sphere cities erected in the middle of war-ravaged sands. The biodomes generated their own weather using a synthetic weather-fabricator. It was in charge of keeping the four seasons separate, but if there was a mishap, July could get a foot of snow or the temperature could hit 105 degrees mid-December.

So if Sabine were to perhaps... _sabotage_ it, the weather fabricator could malfunction and send the Imperials into a frenzy. It would give them the distraction they needed to take over the heart of Sundari: the royal palace where the last ruler of Mandalore lived.

Ezra had his arms crossed next to Sabine as they examined her plan. "But won't all the snow just make it harder to hit the troopers?" he said. It wasn't like him to be cynical but he proposed an excellent point.

"I studied stormtrooper tactics when I was at the Academy," Sabine said. "One of the first things the instructors will tell you is to know when to rush into battle and when to retreat. When there's weather extremities, the troopers are ordered to pull back and call for reinforcements. They can't function in the cold."

"Plus," Bo-Katan added, "Clan Caladon has some of the best snipers in the galaxy. They'll make quick work of the troopers either way."

They all looked to Arc. She was leaning against the holotable, fists pressed against the sides. A shadow slipped across her expression and she frowned. "Sure. Luc can head preparations for that. He's the best sniper I know."

Luc had just returned from recruiting his clan an hour ago, flanked with two people that had looked shockingly similar to him. The man had Luc's sharp jawline and golden blonde hair, while the woman had Luc's slight build and his upturned nose. Sabine had figured they had been his parents, and now, they stood by Luc as he glanced over at Arc.

"I can do it," he said. "Just give me a map of the Royal Palace and I'll post the snipers."

Arc nodded wordlessly and walked to Bo-Katan, speaking quietly with the lady. _Guess the meeting's over,_ Sabine thought. She watched Luc's sharp eyes track Arc and worry flashed across his features. Sabine tucked the thought away and observed the layout of the weather-fabricator again.

Sabine had worked on the making of an Imperial weather-control station before being transferred to weapons engineering, so she knew the basic ins and outs of a weather-fabricator. _The only question is if I can reroute the power feed in time,_ Sabine thought to herself. _I know I can do it… but we're in a time crunch here. If the Empire sees that someone sabotaged it, they'll probably send cold weather assault troops before the rest of the plan can be put into motion… and that won't be good._

So, overall, they had to be quick. Manipulating Sundari's weather would only be so good if they kept stormtroopers grounded.

 _So no reinforcements, either,_ Sabine thought to herself. _They've already quadrupled the Imperial presence because of our raids… but I haven't seen many jumptroopers or death troopers. So long as they don't send more, we should be able to handle it._

Well, that meant jamming Sundari's comm towers. Not an easy task, but a necessary one. _I can get some of Bo-Katan's mechanics on that one,_ Sabine thought. _Maybe get them to engineer a data spike so a strike team can deliver it._

Sabine twisted her lips, thinking hard. This was by far the most intricate, detailed, and complicated plan she'd ever designed before. But, then again, Sabine had never had to design a plan to free an entire warrior race with over a thousand worlds in its ranks.

"I can do this," Sabine muttered to herself. She just had to _think._ It would take three days of the weather-fabricator making its own cold front for everything to be totally iced over. So, three days before the main attack, Sabine would have to sabotage it.

 _And we're still waiting for our requests to join us to be answered,_ Sabine thought to herself. _Torian Ordo still has to show up with his warriors, and even though he should be here any day now, we can't start the attack until he's here. And until our requests are sent back._

But they couldn't wait a whole nother week. Sabine could tell her warriors were getting antsy being holed up in these tunnels and the Imperial presence was only getting heavier.

So… she'd just have to take a chance. Sabotage the weather fabricator today or tomorrow and wait three days until everything had frozen over. And while the Imperials were scrambling to figure out the problem, they would strike.

"I hate waiting," Sabine muttered to herself. She felt helpless, relying on other people to respond to her call to action.

Arc passed by her and Sabine watched her out of the corner of her eye. She could almost see the stormcloud hovering over her head. _Manda, what's_ her _issue?_

She looked around and her gaze rested on Luc. His parents had gone to talked to Kor, and Luc was glued to his datapad screen.

"Luc," Sabine said.

He glanced at her and then back down at his screen. "Oh, hey, Mand'alor."

She stepped closer until she was directly in front of him, patiently waiting for him to notice her. Luc looked up and pressed his lips together.

"Can I help you with something?"

Sabine had never stood this close to him before. He smelled of pressed leather and gun oil, the latter a scent she was familiar with. It was a lubricant to clean blasters.

"Yeah," Sabine drawled. She scuffed her boot against the floor. "Ah, look, it's a tie between you and Kor for who knows Arc the best. She's been acting weird lately. Do you know anything?"

He twisted his lips. "I know a lot of things. You gotta be more specific."

"Do you know what's bothering her."

Luc hesitated. "I don't think it's my place to—"

"Luc."

It was a long time before he responded. "There's a lot of memories in these walls. She's probably reminiscing."

"Arc never struck me as nostalgic."

He snorted a laugh. "No, she's not. She never told me much about it, but she hid something here. Something from her past. If I had to bet, she probably talked to Bo-Katan to see where it was located."

 _Something from her past._ Sabine tucked the detail away and vowed to investigate. Right after she asked Luc a few questions. When she looked back at him, she noticed a gold earring hung from his left ear. Had that always been there?

"Luc… Can you…" Sabine searched for the right words. She hoped this wouldn't seem too out-of-the-blue. "Do you know anything about what had happened with Arc? Before she reassembled the Death Watch? You were there, weren't you?"

He rubbed his narrow chin. "I was there for some of it. I've known her for about four years now. Before I knew her, she had spent a few months traveling with… well, with two people. They traveled the galaxy. She got close with one of them."

The thought of Arc falling in love with a Jedi came to Sabine's mind again. "How… close?"

Luc gave her a wary glance. "Why?"

"It might explain why she's acting like this." Sabine tucked her arms close to her side. "She's heartsick."

Sabine watched Luc grit his teeth. He suddenly seemed defensive. "That was a long time ago, Sabine. If she hasn't moved past her dead boyfriend by now, then-" His mouth suddenly snapped shut, like he'd said too much.

"So you _do_ know something. Spill."

He looked away and rolled his tongue inside his mouth, making his cheek bulge. "I'm not really supposed to talk about this-"

"She fell for a Jedi. One of the people she was traveling with was a Jedi and she fell for him."

Luc seemed shocked for a brief moment, like he hadn't expected her to know that. He held up two fingers. "There were two. Two Jedi; a master and an apprentice. They had traveled with Arc to the Caladon Sector several months after the execution of House Vizsla. That's where I met them."

While they were talking, Luc was rubbing a pale, triangular scar on his jaw, like he was recounting a bad memory. Sabine hadn't paid much attention to it before now. Most Mandalorians had some sort of gruesome scar; trophies of past battles. Luc was no exception—except he didn't seem too thrilled to bear it.

"Arc saved my life," he said. "That's another story, though. She killed the master Jedi. He gave her—" he dragged a gloved finger across the corner of his eye where Arc's scar was "—That. And she kept the apprentice's Padawan braid. Clipped it to her own head."

Sabine swallowed hard. "Who killed the apprentice?"

"Now _that_ is definitely another story. Look, no more questions. I've been sworn to secrecy and Arc would kill me if she found out how much I've already told you. Just talk to her."

"Right," Sabine drawled. "Because talking boys with my cousin is exactly what I like to do in my freetime."

Luc gave her the closest thing to a smile—not a smirk—that she'd ever seen from him. Sabine realized he wasn't as annoying when he was actually pleasant to look at. But there was a kind of sadness in his eyes that surprised her. Like he'd been present for something he wished he could forget.

Luc tucked his datapad under his arm. "I'll see you later, Mand'alor."

Sabine watched him walk off, more unanswered questions on her tongue. Luc had answered her queries with bigger, more pressing questions. Like: who were these Jedi? How had they survived Order 66? How had the apprentice died? Why did Arc kill the master?

 _Only one way to find out,_ Sabine thought to herself. She marched off in Bo-Katan's direction. _Luc said Bo-Katan hid something from Arc's past in the tunnels._

She found the Nite Owl leader with Fenn Rau near the weapons barrack, both talking military strategy. When Sabine asked about Arc, Bo-Katan's gaze hardened.

"I can tell you where she is; but I warn you, Sabine Wren. You might not want to pull on this thread." Bo-Katan had put a hand on her arm as they talked and Sabine shrugged it off.

"She's my cousin," Sabine said. "I need to know where she is."

"Four years ago, she gave me a case for safekeeping. I put it in a secret compartment in one of the spare rooms. It happened to be the same room you picked out for your sleeping quarters."

"So she's in my room?"

Bo-Katan hesitated. "Yes. But-"

Sabine was already turned around and on her way down the tunnel. Every step felt like she was sinking further into her own grave. She came to a stop outside of her room, each breath shallow and rapid in her chest.

 _Here goes nothing,_ Sabine thought. She stepped inside and the door slid shut behind her with a _click_. She found Arc sitting on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at a wall. She didn't acknowledge Sabine.

Sabine herself almost didn't recognize her. For starters, her hair was actually down. Dark locks spilled over her bare shoulders in waves. In the time Sabine had had the conversation with Luc, Arc had ditched her Mandalorian armor for a tanktop and tactical pants rolled at the hem, the armor nowhere to be found.

"You look cheery," Sabine said and could have kicked herself. Her voice sounded awkward to her own ears.

Arc's green eyes were glazed over and she didn't so much as twitch. "What do you want?"

"Um, nothing much. I mean, you _are_ in my room."

"I needed to get something." Arc still hadn't even looked at her. She showed her the object in her hand and Sabine's heart skipped a beat. It was rusted over and the metal had dulled, but there could be no mistake.

It was a lightsaber.

For a heart-stopping moment, Sabine thought it was Ezra's. But this lightsaber handle was longer and the grips were horizontal instead of vertical.

"Where'd you get that?" Sabine said. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

"I asked Bo-Katan to keep it for me a while back. I didn't want to be tempted."

A metal case lay opened on the floor, where Sabine assumed the lightsaber had come from. There were a few more objects in its velvet depths and Sabine slowly walked over, crouching next to the case.

There was a handful of pocket change, thin silver and gold coins with various insignias inscripted on each of them. One read DXUN, with a withered face emblazoned on the front. In fine print below it were the words TORIAN ORDO in Mando'a and the slogan HONOR & JUSTICE FOR THE DUCHESS MASSACRE.

Sabine knit her brows. " _The Duchess Massacre?"_ she thought. _What…?_ For a moment she thought the coin was talking about Duchess Satine Kryze of the Clone Wars-but her assassination had never been referred to as a "massacre." Sabine's eyes rounded. The coin burned in her fingers.

"The Duchess Massacre," she whispered. The coin was referring to the weapon Sabine designed during her time with the Imperial Academy. Sabine had named it the Duchess; a snarky reference to Bo-Katan's dead sister, the former leader of Mandalore. The Empire had turned the Duchess against the Mandalorians, killing many. So many, in fact, one might even call it a massacre.

Sabine dropped the coin in disgust. She looked over her shoulder at Arc, whose gaze was still fixated on the lightsaber in her hand. Sabine turned back to the case and ran her hand along the other objects. They looked like sentimental trinkets. A few holodisks, a small glass container of sand, a square piece of what looked like an animal's scaley hide, and a golden ring. The ring was unremarkable; just a plain band; shiny-like it had never been worn. And when the ring fit perfectly on her third finger, she knew it was a woman's ring. Almost like a marital ring.

Sabine quickly slid it off her finger before Arc saw her and tucked it into the velvet cloth. There were other objects. A sewing kit, a thin box that made a snare sound when Sabine tapped it—like a mini percussion instrument—and an old-fashioned envelope stamped with a red seal. Still unopened.

 _Definitely not touching THAT,_ Sabine reflected. She happened to like her head attached to her shoulders. She was still balancing on the balls of her feet, and she twisted to face Arc. "What are all these?"

Arc glanced at her and her eyes turned flinty. "Stuff I want to forget." She moved to Sabine and grabbed the case, snapping the latches shut.

"Then why did you come here?" Sabine said. Arc whirled around and Sabine took a half-step back. She held her hands up. "Just asking. You're in my room. With a lightsaber. Gotta ask questions."

Arc sat back on the bedside. She suddenly seemed exhausted. "I shouldn't have come here."

Sabine sat next to her, gaze lowering to the lightsaber still clasped in her hands. Her knuckles were turning white. "Um… Why don't you just… put down the sword."

Arc didn't answer and Sabine cautiously slipped the cylinder from her hand, easing her fingers off the grips. When Sabine held the lightsaber in her own hands and Arc hadn't killed her, Sabine sighed with relief.

Arc looked at her. Her eyes were tortured, facial features contrasting sharply in the dim light. "You think I'm being stupid, don't you?"

"No, I don't-"

"I shouldn't have come. This was a bad idea." She went to leave but Sabine pulled her back down.

"Hey, c'mon. Calm down. Explain. What's wrong?"

Her laugh was emotionless. "Where do I even start? The Death Watch camp was destroyed by Imperials-" she was listing the things off on her fingers "-My aunt came here and threatened you while I was unconscious, we're about to mount the _biggest_ attack against Sundari in Mandalore history, and my head is still stuck in the crinking past!" Arc ran her hands through her thick hair. Sabine still wasn't used to it being down.

"You mean this," Sabine said, looking down at the saber in her hands. It felt heavier than Ezra's and the Darksaber.

"Yeah. Yeah, _that_." She said it in the same way that Sabine would say 'Gar Saxon' or Ezra would say Luc's name.

Sabine hesitated. A load of questions burned on her tongue but she treaded forward carefully. "Arc," she said instead, "tell me a story. A real story. Tell me how you got this." She shook the lightsaber's handle. "And how you got that." She pointed with the butt of the lightsaber to her own face, where Arc's scar would be.

The muscles around the scar twitched. "Why?"

For some reason, the inquiry sent a pang of hurt through Sabine. "Because. We… We're cousins. We're friends." _Right?_ The word hung in the air between them.

It was a long time before Arc moved. When she did, she held her hand open and Sabine placed the lightsaber inside it. Arc ignited the blade and a beam of golden-yellow shot out.

The hum was deeper than that of the Darksaber's; not high-pitched at all. It reverberated like someone was hitting a chord on a bass guitar.

Sabine watched Arc's eyes search the pulsing blade, as if she were looking for something. "I killed a man for this, Sabine." Her voice was colder than it should have been. "I vowed to do the same for any of his kind."

"Jedi," Sabine said.

Arc nodded.

Sabine bit her lip. Maybe she wouldn't be so on edge if there wasn't a Jedi hiding right under Arc's nose and he just so happened to be Sabine's best friend.

"Why?" Sabine said. Arc stared hard at her and she backpedaled. "I mean, why would you _want_ to kill them?"

"Why _wouldn't_ you? They're Jedi. Isn't that explanation enough?"

"Not really. They're people first."

Arc squinted at her like she was a book written in a foreign language that Arc was trying to decipher. "They're enemies. Our _sworn_ rivals. They have been for generations."

" _Manda,_ not you too!"

"What?"

"People have been saying that for years. It's a weak excuse to keep our two cultures separated. You're telling me, you hate Jedi just because someone before you did? They've done _nothing_ to you and you-"

Arc shot up from the bed and before Sabine could react, she had shoved her up against the wall. "I watched a Jedi kill the boy that I loved," she hissed. Her eyes were wild. "I watched him betray me. So the next time you think you know all the facts…"

Sabine swallowed hard and shoved Arc off of her.

"...Think again."

Sabine knit her brows, hands balling into fists. The familiar rush of adrenaline at the prospect of a fight pumped through her veins, but it was a solid five seconds before Sabine realized the threat had passed and she wasn't in danger.

Arc hesitated and bounced the lightsaber handle in her hand before tossing it to Sabine. "Keep it," Arc said. "Or trash it. I don't really care."

She went to leave and Sabine spoke. "If you were to find another Jedi. What… would you do?"

"If he or she's anything like the last one, well, you could guess. Hardly matters now though; the Empire's hunted down any surviving Jedi. Makes my job easy, huh?"

She left Sabine alone in the room, heart pounding furiously in her ears. She had only one thought.

 _Ezra._

* * *

"I'm _telling_ you, Ez! She's hell-bent on this thing. After we capture Sundari, I want you on the first ship back to the Rebellion. She can't know that you're a Jedi."

Ezra grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Sabine."

She gradually met his gaze. His heavy brows were knit and his lip puckered the way he did when he was worried. They were alone in Sabine's room, and they spoke in hushed tones. Arc had gone to her own quarters hours ago and it was only until Sabine was sure she was dead-asleep that Sabine pulled Ezra into her room to have the conversation.

Sabine grabbed his forearms, hoping she conveyed the desperation she felt. "Ezra, please. You've seen her. You know what she can do-"

"I don't care," he said. "And you can tell her I said that."

Sabine grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him down so they were eyelevel. "Ezra," she hissed. She waited until he locked eyes with her. "You're not listening. If she finds out you're a Jedi…" she let the silence hang between them.

"No, _you're_ not listening." His eyes searched her face and Sabine's breath caught in her throat. "I'm not leaving you. Alright? We've gone through this before. So just stop."

Sabine didn't say anything. Her emotions warred with each other; she didn't know if she wanted to shake Ezra or hug him.

She let her hands fall from the folds of his jacket to rest on his chest. Sabine laid her forehead against him, heartbeat roaring in her ears and her blood galloping through her veins. She wasn't sure if it was fury at Ezra's stubbornness that made her adrenaline race or something… _more_. Something Sabine couldn't put into words at the moment. No—something Sabine _refused_ to put into words.

Ezra's strong arms wrapped around her protectively and Sabine sunk into his hold. She didn't hug him back; just cradled her arms close to her body and let herself be held.

There were no more words left to say. Sabine's terror could hardly be voiced, but she had tried anyway. Ezra wouldn't leave her; even if it meant risking his own life in the process. Sabine mutely wondered why she still got surprised.

"You know this is the end," she said. Her voice was hoarse. "After we take the fight to Gar Saxon in a week. Everything's going to change after this."

She wasn't sure how she knew. Something in her gut told her that there would be things that they couldn't recover from. Ever.

"I know," Ezra said. He squeezed her tighter.

" _Manda,_ " Sabine whispered into Ezra's jacket. She moved her head sideways to speak. "I hope this works."

"It will."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then we'll all die trying. I watched my world be enslaved, Sabine. I won't let your's stay that way."

Sabine didn't respond, just listened to the slow and heavy beating of her best friend's heart. _I hope you're right, Ezra. I really,_ really _hope you're right._

* * *

Ursa Wren had watched the holoprojector on her dresser for the past week for what seemed interminably. Every day, she had waited for the beeping of an incoming call to hail her. Yet every day, she was disappointed.

Ursa eventually admitted defeat and allowed herself a quiet moment of silence. She swallowed back cold anger. _I should have know Sabine wouldn't answer,_ she thought. _She's as stubborn as I feared._

As much as she wanted to deny it, Sabine wasn't coming back to Krownest.

 _Plan B,_ Ursa thought. She punched a button on the holoprojector and an image solidified in front of her.

"I regret to inform you of grave news," Ursa Wren said. "But I've just discovered the whereabouts of my daughter and the fools that follow her. They're in league with Bo-Katan and have taken shelter in some sort of underground tunnel system beneath Sundari."

Gar Saxon leaned forward in the hologram, hand cupping his broad chin. " _Tunnel system, you say?"_

"Yes. They have cloaking devices to hide the tunnels from scanners, but I can show you the hidden entrance."

Gar Saxon's lips contorted in a smirk in the gritty blueness of the hologram. "Thank you, Countess. We will launch a preemptive strike immediately. Meet me in Sundari as soon as you can."

Ursa Wren bowed her head. "As you wish, Viceroy."

The hologram fizzled out, leaving Ursa Wren to stare at the place where it had been. Dread made her stomach twist in knots. _Don't worry,_ she thought to Sabine. _We'll bring you home soon enough. One way or another._

Ursa primed the pistol on her hip and snapped it into its holster. _One way or another._


End file.
